


Restoration

by bazooka



Series: Vintage Bakery [2]
Category: Sungkyunkwan Scandal
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bakery, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Demisexual Moon Jae Shin, F/M, M/M, Pansexual Gu Yong Ha, Romantic Comedy, Vintage Bakery AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-06
Updated: 2015-03-21
Packaged: 2018-02-28 09:45:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 69,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2727719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bazooka/pseuds/bazooka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Part Two, in which: Moon Jae Shin takes a leap; a business proposition is levied and subsequently accepted; Gu Yong Ha has a Teachable Moment; unexpected newcomers cause more problems than previously anticipated; Christmas is for families both born and found; neither Moon Jae Shin nor Gu Yong Ha are able to keep their past and present lives from colliding; Moon Jae Shin throws up - twice.</p><p>Part two of an increasingly ridiculous modern-day AU in three parts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Beginning of the End

"I quit work."

The conversation died. Both his mother and grandmother turned slowly in their chairs to look at him. His grandmother's tea cup was suspended inches from her lips as though frozen in time. His mother's mouth was still open, the words she was about to speak dissipating on the tip of her tongue.

"What?" his mother said, blinking and attempting to regain her balance. "You did what?"

It was a Saturday morning in late June. The slate tiles of the patio were still damp from earlier that morning when his mother had watered the flowerbeds, and the smell of the wet earth hummed under everything like a bass note, holding it up and keeping summer an ever-present reality. The patio table was set with three tea cups on mismatched saucers - possibly the only thing in his mother's house which she permitted not to match - and a white porcelain tea pot, fat and round and sleek like a cat.

Moon Jae Shin reached forward and turned his tea cup slightly on its saucer, letting the tea ripple and catch the early summer light. "I quit work," he said again, picking up the cup and smiling at his mother and grandmother before taking a sip. "I'm going to open my own business."

The two women looked at each other, previous conversation entirely forgotten, before his mother turned back to him again. "Okay," she said slowly. "I feel like I can't have heard you right. You're doing _what_? Opening your own business?"

"I feel like it's important to figure out my own way in the world," Jae Shin said. He sat back in his chair and set the tea cup down again in its saucer. Ran his hand through his hair. Braced himself.

His grandmother leaned forward conspiratorially. "But you've only been working for your father for two yea-"

"Two and a half," his mother interrupted, in a dangerous voice.

"- two and a half years," his grandmother finished, not missing a beat. "Do you really think -"

"A bakery," Jae Shin said, pretending not to hear her.

"But you don't know anything about cake," his mother said. She glared at him, as though this revelation was intended as a personal offense. "You don't even _like_ cake."

"I don't really like working for my father's company either and you were all right with me doing that."

"He has a point," his grandmother said, touching his mother on her wrist - which at least refocused the glare in another direction. (Jae Shin flashed a grateful smile at his grandmother, who pretended to ignore him.) "He really didn't like working for Geun Soo."

Eom Hae Sook grimaced and smacked her mother's hand. "Mother, I swear to god, if you - where are you going?" This was to Jae Shin, who was just beginning to stand up from the patio table. "I'm not done with you yet!"

Jae Shin leaned over the table toward her, a solemn expression on his face. Despite herself, she pulled back, tucking herself further into the chair. "The tea's gone," he said after a second, dropping his hand to rest on the handle of the teapot, the look on his face transforming into one of his sideways grins. "I assume you ladies would like some more?"

"Oh, yes," his grandmother said delightedly.

The white porcelain tea pot was still warm to the touch, but not hot, so he picked it up in both hands and carried it inside. He paused just inside the door, ostensibly to kick off his shoes, but really just to give his mother a moment to catch up - she thought she was sneaky, but after 28 years he'd learned when to wait and when to leave her behind. He stepped into the kitchen. Set the pot down on the white marble counter top. Opened a drawer and began digging through it for the tea tin he knew his mother had secreted away somewhere.

"Does your father know about this?"

Right on cue. "He's the one who gave me the idea, actually." That wasn't a lie, right? Not technically speaking, anyway. His father had given him the idea, after all - even though he hadn't realized that's what he was doing at the time. Jae Shin straightened up, tea tin in hand, turning his head to look at his mother standing in the kitchen doorway. "Is this the one you wanted?"

"Not the right season for that one," she replied, stepping forward with hand outstretched, palm out. The look of relief on her face was palpable. "Let me find you the right one. I haven't reorganized that much in the last year, you know - don't you still know where I keep all my teas?"

"It's been two years since I moved out, not one," Jae Shin said mildly, sidestepping out of her way and leaning against the counter top, crossing his arms over his chest. "Remember? Not long after getting out of the army? I should think you'd have gone through that much tea in that time."

Hae Sook bit her lip irritably, rifling through the drawer for another second before slamming it shut again. "Maybe we finished it. Hold on." She prodded him in the ribs. "You're in the way."

"I'll get the water started, shall I?"

"Do what you like, as long as you're not in the way. I swear, if your father finished it and didn't tell me, there'll be hell to pay."

"Will you be selling tickets?" A moment of silence drew his eyes back around and he flinched at the force of his mother's glare. "Sorry, sorry. I'm getting the water started, remember?"

"You should really give your father more of a chance," Hae Sook said, arm halfway stuck down a deep drawer. "He really does care about you, you know."

Jae Shin clicked the electric kettle into place and flipped the switch. Thought about what to say. Couldn't think of anything good. "I know," he said finally, unable to figure out anything better. He turned around and grinned at his mother. "Grandma's still out on the patio."

"Shit!" She nearly dropped the tea strainer in her hands, loose tea scattering over the white marble counter top. She shot him a pleading look. "Could you -"

"Go," he said, stepping forward and gently taking the tea from her hands. "I'll bring this out when it's done."

But she didn't go. She stopped. Put one hand down on the counter. Put the other on his chest. Looked up into his face. "Are you all right?" she said, quietly.

He was fine. He was fine. He was perfectly, absolutely, aggressively fine. He'd quit his job the day before with nothing more than a hare-brained idea and bile in his throat. His apartment was too cold at night and too hot during the day. He'd had to start doubling up on sleeping pills and even then he couldn't always sleep. He didn't have any friends (not really) and the last time he'd heard from Gu Yong Ha had been over three years ago. All he had was the knot in his stomach, increasing in size and strength over the past twenty years, and he was fine. He was fine. He was fine.

"I'm fine," Jae Shin said. "Don't leave Grandma alone for too long. She'll wander off."

"You don't know anything about cake," his mother insisted. "You don't even _like_ cake."

"I was hoping that maybe my mother, the former food critic...?"

She smacked him on the chest, but it was light, and she was smiling. "You're lucky you're so cute." And she was gone, out of the kitchen, out of the house, sliding the door closed and stepping out onto the patio.

On the counter top behind him the kettle bubbled, hummed, and honked out a uniquely quavering whistle - the kind of whistle that Jae Shin associated so strongly with his mother's kitchen that he hadn't yet brought himself to buy his own electric kettle for fear it just wouldn't sound right. He finished scooping loose leaf tea into the round infuser. Clipped it shut, dumped it into the tea pot. Filled it with water, checked the clock, leaned against the counter top, and waited for three minutes.

The marble was cool under his hands, and if he closed his eyes he could be seven years old again - so he kept his eyes open and slid up to sit on the counter instead, kicking his heels against the cupboard doors below. Outside on the patio his mother and grandmother were talking again, laughing about something, as though they'd never stopped.

For a moment he was almost sorry he'd lied to them.  
  


* * *

**Two Weeks Later**  
  


On a Sunday morning in early July, Gu Yong Ha woke up to the following accompaniment: a hangover; someone's hand down the waistband of his underwear; his cell phone, shrieking in his ear.

To the uninitiated, Sunday mornings in Gu Yong Ha's small studio apartment would appear to be at best a travesty and at worst a disaster - clothing was invariably strewn about haphazardly, someone other than Yong Ha was typically hogging the covers, and there would always (always) be some form of alcohol spilled on the floor somewhere. (He would usually find it later by stepping in it in fresh socks.) As a general rule Yong Ha's mornings started so early most people would call it simply "night" but when Sundays are your Saturdays you find a way to sleep in.

On a Sunday morning in early July, sun beaming lazily through the window of his rooftop studio, someone's hand down the waistband of his underwear, the hiss and groan of his ancient air conditioning unit powering itself on in the window, Gu Yong Ha's phone went off so loud he very nearly pissed himself.

"Shit," he moaned, slapping his hand down on his phone, trying to pick it up without much success. "Fuck," he hissed, levering himself upright with one arm, his head sloshing and banging at the end of his neck, his left shoulder twinging. "Will you stop that?" he said, slapping at the hand down his underwear. "Some of us are still sleeping."

"It doesn't feel asleep," mumbled his bedmate, and squeezed.

Which is why Yong Ha made an extremely inappropriate noise into the phone at the exact same moment he picked up the call.

  
Jae Shin blinked. Pulled the phone from his ear. Examined the number he'd dialed. "Hello?" he said into it, cautiously. "Who is this? Do I have the wrong number?"

  
"This is Gu Yong Ha," said Gu Yong Ha, having successfully kicked his bedmate entirely off the mattress in an act of sweet, sweet revenge. "Who is this? What time is it?" He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to remember the night before. "Is this someone from Hive?" He hadn't given his phone number out to anyone at the club. Right? He hadn't. He couldn't have.

"I don't know what Hive is," Jae Shin said slowly. He pulled a glass out of the cupboard over the sink, a grin creeping over his face despite himself. "So... no. Care to try again?"

Yong Ha peered down at the screen of his phone blearily. Ah, fuck. He looked over the edge of the mattress. On the floor. Under his pillow. "Hey, wake up," he said, kicking his bedmate. "Help me find my glasses. They have to be around here somewhere."

"You've changed." Jae Shin took a drink. Leaned his head back to rest against the cupboard door. "You wear glasses now? And since when do you bring girls home?"

"Of course I wear glasses," he barked into the phone. "Who doesn't know that I -" Oh. Oh. Oh shit. Yong Ha stared at his phone, squinting - willing his eyes to focus on the tiny text that never bothered him when there were prescription lenses involved but was hell without. The three syllables swam into focus, and lo, he felt the hand of The God Of Problems light upon him.

"Jae Shin," he said, and the name came out of his lungs like the last breath of a dying man.

"Who?" mouthed his bedmate, holding up his glasses.

"Give me those." Yong Ha snatched the frames out of his hand, unfolded the temples, and pushed them onto his face before covering the mouthpiece of his phone. "Don't say a fucking word!"

Jae Shin's voice crackled out of the speaker. "Is everything all right over there?"

"Everything is great. It's fine. Fantastic. I wear glasses now." He gestured wildly at his bedmate, who waved a hand in a dismissive sort of way and rolled out of the clutches of Yong Ha's comforter. "I still don't take girls home."

The mostly naked man who had just left Yong Ha's bed cackled wickedly and wandered into the small kitchen to make coffee.

Jae Shin made a face. "Then where are you? Who are you with?"

"Don't ask," Yong Ha groaned, falling back against his pillow. "It's better if you don't know." He'd stopped remembering the look on Jae Shin's face quite so frequently, that evening in late December three years ago, but it was still a fresh enough wound that he wasn't sure how else to respond. The words gross and weird still bounced around his head sometimes, and he didn't even want to think about it. "What's up? It's been a while."

"Yeah." Jae Shin wandered through his apartment aimlessly, like he always did whenever he talked on the phone for more than a minute or two. The television was on but muted, and the closed captioning was something garbled about a missing kid. He grimaced and clicked it off. "Listen, are you free any time this week? Like to get coffee, or drinks or something." He coughed into his fist. "It's not, you know... urgent or anything. I'm just curious."

Gu Yong Ha opened his eyes and stared up at the ceiling. Ran his fingers through his hair. Tried to ignore the noises coming from his stomach, the smells beginning to waft out of the kitchen. "Yeah, I think I'm free sometime this week," he said, his voice coming from a long way off. "Ah - well, not today." He squinted. "Or tomorrow. Tuesday afternoon, early evening? I think I'm open then."

"I think that'll work." Jae Shin wedged his phone between his cheek and his shoulder in order to flip through his appointment book. "So by afternoon, you mean 3:30, 4...?"

"Make it 5:30," Yong Ha said, pushing himself up and swinging his legs over the edge of the mattress.

"Done. I'll text you an address. Meet me there. Tuesday, 5:30. And listen -"

"Yeah?"

"- don't wear your glasses," Jae Shin said. "I need to be able to recognize you."

Yong Ha opened his mouth to say something, anything, but his phone beeped in his ear and Jae Shin was gone. Jae Shin was gone, as quickly as he'd come, and somehow even after three years of very careful distance he was still able to turn him upside down.

"Who was that?"

Yong Ha looked up from the now-blank screen of his phone. He hadn't realized he'd been staring at it. "Jae Shin," he said stupidly. "My very own personal problem god."

The mostly naked man who had (until very recently) been in Yong Ha's bed had found an apron somewhere and was now wearing: a pair of underwear, an apron, an exceptionally rude grin. The list ended there. "An ex, then."

"Not an ex," Yong Ha said forcefully, setting his phone down next to the mattress and standing up slowly. His hangover was still alive and well, but hell if he'd let it prevent him from putting on some damn pants. He kicked at a pile of clothing until he managed to unearth a pair of black skinny jeans. "A... friend. An old friend."

"The kind of friend you fuck?"

"The kind of friend you fall out of touch with because the army turned him into a homophobe," Yong Ha said, pulling the jeans on. "Which luckily you find out right before you come out to him as the most aggressively bisexual person in Korea."

"Oh."

"Yeah," Yong Ha said, and leaned against the counter. "'Oh.' Where's the coffee, Myeong Shik?"

Myeong Shik slid a mug toward him across the formica. "Four scoops of sugar, half a cup of cream. Just the way you like it."

Yong Ha dipped a finger into mug. Glanced up at Myeong Shik, a lopsided grin creeping over his face as he brought his hand up to suck the coffee off his finger. "Perfect." He winked and picked up the mug. "Your wife is going to kill me."

"Only if she finds out."  
  


* * *

**Tuesday**  
  


Unlike her son, there were a large number of things which Eom Hae Sook took very, very seriously. The first of these things was, (of course), her son - because if he wasn't going to take himself seriously than someone had to, thank you very much. The second was, (of course), home security - because if she wasn't there to keep things locked down then something had to, thank you very very much.

The third was food. Of course. (Of course.) So when her son (bless his heart) asked her to step up to the plate, she did so - perhaps more literally than he expected. On Monday morning Eom Hae Sook made a phone call and, in her kitchen, Seo Il Hwa picked up.

"You said your son is a pastry chef, right?" she said into the phone before Il Hwa had a chance to speak. "Where's he working now?"

Seo Il Hwa opened her mouth. Paused. Glanced at the calendar. "I can't honestly keep track," she said. "Do you have a pen?"

The first cafe Hae Sook visited... well. It could technically be called a cafe if you squinted and held your nose when you drank the coffee. The second cafe was marginally better, but their focus was more on the coffee than it was on the pastries. The third was odder still, more invested in some kind of gimmicky theme than in the quality of the product.

At the fifth cafe she sat next to the window, her notebook open to a blank page on the table in front of her. Pencil held in one hand, mocha in the other. It was past noon now, and the coffee in her hand was her seventh cup. If she hadn't spent a lifetime drinking too much coffee and cultivating nerves of steel she might have been trembling by now, but instead she just felt focused. Serene. Just a little bit unsteady.

Focused, maybe, but certainly not attentive - she only noticed the man next to her when she heard the telltale clink of porcelain on the glass tabletop. (Later she would deny having jumped, but CCTV captured her flinch with pixellated perfection.)

Eom Hae Sook looked up, and up, and up, until finally her eyes found the man's face. He smiled, maybe even twinkled a little, and gestured broadly. "Ma'am," he said. "Your order. Eclair. Croissant. Macaron. With love from our maître pâtissier."

She cocked an eyebrow. "Maître pâtissier?" Unlikely.

After a morning of cardboard pastry she was beginning to regret pushing herself to a fifth bakery, but with the plate in front of her and the man (who she was beginning to suspect was the owner) at her elbow there wasn't much she could do but take a bite.

The eclair dropped from her fingers. "Holy shit," she said.

  
The pastry knife slammed into the butcher block counter top with such force the tip buried itself deep in the wood. In the oven a whole rack of souffles were falling and burning in perfect unison. The floor was covered with fine-milled cake flour that had been knocked off a prep surface, glass jar shattering on impact.

In the bakery's kitchen Gu Yong Ha pressed himself against one white-tiled wall, sweat running down his back, eyes searching for an exit, mouth smiling smiling smiling for dear life.

"I am going to kill you!"

Myeong Shik advanced slowly, hands up, palms out. "Sweetheart, baby, don't do this, can we talk about this?"

"You're next," Sweetheart snarled at her husband, yanking desperately on the handle of the pastry knife, sunk deep into the counter top. "Don't you dare call me sweetheart ever again, after what you did to me! And with him?!" She took one hand off the knife and gestured wildly in Gu Yong Ha's direction. He winced. "An employee!"

Gu Yong Ha very very slowly inched his way along the wall, trying not to look directly at the door leading out the back. Don't let her know your plans. Don't make any sudden movements. Just stay calm. Calm. Calm. (It was funny, he thought dreamily, how things you learned in an active war zone were applicable to real life. Don't anger the enemy combatant. Move slowly. Don't run.)

"Yong Ha is a pastry chef, not an employee! He's the backbone of this business, which is more than I can say for you!"

Myeong Shik, you complete fucking moron.

Yong Ha gave up on moving slowly and bolted for it instead, just as Myeong Shik's wife let out a strangled scream of rage and pulled the knife free with a sudden burst of animal strength. The buttons popped off his chef coat as he wrenched it open, shrugging out of it and dropping it on the floor behind him as he ran. He hit the door hard with his left shoulder, (winced), scrambled with the latch, swung it open - "Goodbye! Lovely working with you!" - and twirled through it, catching the doorknob with one hand and swinging it along behind him.

"You're fired!" Sweetheart screamed, but the door slammed shut and Yong Ha had maybe a 30 second head start if he was lucky. He grinned, wiped a smear of flour from his cheek with the back of his hand... and backed directly into Eom Hae Sook, lying in wait for him behind the bakery.

"And just what," she said, her voice rising up behind him like a demon out of hell, her hands clamping over his shoulders like the jaws of death, "have you done to get fired this time?"

The gears in his head rattled and spun. "Mom," he said, in a high voice. "What brings you here?" Somewhere behind that door Sweetheart was getting ready to come out here and commit murder. Eom Hae Sook was behind him, hands on his shoulders and his own mother on speed dial in her cell phone. In that moment he felt extraordinarily trapped. Was this what other people felt like all the time? No way out, no clue how to wiggle free?

"Me?" Hae Sook laughed, released her iron grip on his shoulders, and smacked him affectionately on the arm. "I'm here for cake. What about you? Why is your boss only now finding out what a rascal you are?"

The door rattled and banged on its hinges. A vision of his own grisly demise flashed before his eyes. (There was blood. It was horrible. Death by pastry scraper seemed like it would be a slow and agonizing process.) "Mom. I would love to catch up with you, but I really really need to not be here any longer than I already have been. Really. I mean it. Could we...?"

"She did seem pretty angry."

"Yes," Gu Yong Ha agreed emphatically. Turned. Grabbed her by the wrist. Started walking as fast as possible out toward the street. "Come on, we can... I'll buy you coffee. Sound all right?"

Eom Hae Sook looked a little green and opened her mouth to speak when the door behind them slammed open and Sweetheart burst forth out of the bakery like a terrible flour-covered angel of vengeance - knife in hand, dust and fury flying in her wake. The look of rage on her face melted into one of confusion for a moment as she peered the wrong way down the alleyway and found no sign of her errant pastry chef.

Gu Yong Ha held his breath. Pulled so, so gently on Hae Sook's arm. Prayed hard to whoever might be listening that Myeong Shik might catch her before she thought to look in the other direction.

Heaven forsook him. Sweetheart turned her head, raised the knife, and screamed.

"Holy _shit_ ," Eom Hae Sook said for the second time that day.

Yong Ha tugged urgently on her arm. "We need to go."

"I'm beginning to pick that up."

Sweetheart took a step forward and finally, finally Myeong Shik stumbled out of the doorway behind her, wrapping his arms around her shoulders so quickly and with such force that the knife was knocked out of her hand. "Sweetheart! Stop it! Don't kill him, he's a genius!"

"I don't care if he's the best fucking pastry chef in the entire fucking universe, I'm going to murder him! Get off me, you piece of -"

It was at this point that Yong Ha regained the presence of mind to slap both palms over Hae Sook's ears and pull her backwards out of the alleyway while Sweetheart and Myeong Shik were otherwise occupied. Once his feet hit the sidewalk and he felt relatively confident she wouldn't hear much detail in the discussion, he grabbed her by the elbow and power-walked as fast as he could away from the bakery. "And this is why," he whispered to her coquettishly, "I never take my cell phone out of my pocket on the job."

She just stared dumbly at him in response. His smile wilted. "What?" he said, dreading what she was about to ask.

"Was that true, what they were saying?"

No. Fuck. No no no. This was not how he wanted to come out to Eom Hae Sook. He hadn't wanted to come out to her at all, and to have her walk right in the middle of a screaming fight over the affair he'd had with another woman's husband...? Was there a worse way, really? There couldn't possibly be. "What do you mean? What were they saying?" Just play dumb. Play dumb and keep walking.

"That you're the pastry chef for that bakery."

Yong Ha tripped over his own feet and stumbled to a halt. "Sorry?"

"Well, that you were the pastry chef. Not anymore, obviously, seeing how you've been fired." She paused thoughtfully, touching her mouth with the fingertips of one hand. "I'd like to hear that story."

He stared at her. Through her. Reconstructed the events of the last few minutes in his head, images spinning, words repeating over and over like a broken recording. "Y _yy_ es," he said, slowly. "I am. Was. Was the pastry chef. I'm a pastry chef." He coughed into his fist. Took his glasses off, inspected the lenses. Tried not to look her in the eye.

She reached out and grabbed his wrist, pulled it up to inspect his palm, his fingers, the dough under his nails. He resisted for a fraction of a second before stopping and just letting her have her way - it had been a few years, but old habits died hard. It was better to submit to Eom Hae Sook and deal with the humiliation later than it was to resist and deal with her. She glared up at him suddenly and he involuntarily jerked his head back. "Why were you fired?"

"I, ah..." Yong Ha's brain shuddered to a halt. "I may have, um. Slept. With. One of the employees?" That'd work, provided she didn't dig too deep.

Her eyes narrowed. "Who? That reaction was a bit strong for just an employee."

Fuuuuck. "It miiight have been someone in her family." Please stop asking questions. Please stop asking questions.

The glare intensified and he started to wonder if death would be preferable. "That makes sense," Hae Sook said finally, grinning and dropping his wrist. He snatched it back gratefully and massaged the blood back into it as surreptitiously as possible. "A younger sister, I'd bet. Luckily for you the job offer I have for you is working under someone with no siblings."

"The what? Job offer?"

But she wasn't paying attention to him any more, instead digging through her massive purse and pulling out a slim, black, leather-bound notebook. (He remembered this notebook, or one of its predecessors. Back before she retired she'd had it with her at all times, making notes everywhere they went. She kept photos tucked into it, receipts for restaurants she wanted to revisit, pressed flowers, wrote directions. He knew exactly what the pages smelled like and saw the loops and curls of her handwriting in the back of his head.)

She flipped through the pages until she reached a blank one. Wrote something quickly, tore out the page (Yong Ha winced despite himself), and pressed it into his palm. "You're free tomorrow, right?" She blinked. "What am I saying? Of course you're free. Be at that address tomorrow by 1:00pm. Don't be late. And Gu Yong Ha -"

He swallowed. "Yes?"

Eom Hae Sook grinned. Her eyes twinkled. She leaned forward conspiratorially and he bent toward her in response. "I know your mother. If you don't show up she and I might have to have a talk about your employment history."

And then she was gone, striding off down the street, cell phone already in hand. He watched her go, mouth open.

What was it with the Moon family and forcing him to do things? He still hadn't looked at the address Jae Shin had texted him out of the blue, and now the piece of paper in his palm... well. It was genetic, apparently. In looks Jae Shin may have taken after his father, but in sheer stubbornness his only match was his mother.

Oh shit. Jae Shin. Yong Ha fumbled with his pocket and pulled out his cell phone. It was 2:00. He had three and a half hours to go home, shower, change out of his work clothes, and then make it to... wherever it was Jae Shin wanted to meet.

Well, whatever. He'd figure this out as he went - it's what he was good at. Yong Ha stuffed his cell phone back in his pocket, stepped out onto the street, and hailed a cab.

  
There was something about being early that appealed to Gu Yong Ha. It gave him a chance to scope things out. Get a feel for things. Take people by surprise. The address Jae Shin had texted to him turned out to be a restaurant - a funny little hole-in-the-wall place in the middle of Gangnam that was part restaurant, part roadside stand, the seating area extending out from the storefront onto the sidewalk. He got a small table inside the restaurant, against the wall, where he could sit in the shade and still see everything.

Moon Jae Shin had told him not to wear his glasses, so of course he wore them anyway.

He glanced at his cell phone. 5:27. Unless Jae Shin had changed significantly in the last three years, that meant he had at least ten minutes before -

Holy shit. The son of a bitch was on time.

Yong Ha twitched his scarf over his mouth and sank down into his seat, wishing fervently that he'd thought to put on sunglasses instead. Jae Shin strode through the open door. Paused at the host's stand. Grinned, gestured pleasantly, adjusted his cuffs, and wow, what the hell? Since when did Moon Jae Shin (Moon Jae Shin, of all people!) know how to dress himself? Did he know that he looked as good as he did? Was it something that even occurred to him in the morning, in front of the mirror? God, but he had stayed slender since coming out of the army, only he'd gotten some muscle back and his cream colored button-up strained over his shoulders.

This was going to be more difficult than he'd thought.

The host waved a hand generously in Yong Ha's direction and Jae Shin turned to follow it. Yong Ha took this as his cue to become suddenly and fastidiously interested in the menu.

Yong Ha counted under his breath. Five whole seconds passed before the chair on the other side of the table squeaked against the floor. "You're on time," Yong Ha said pleasantly, turning the menu over and frowning thoughtfully as he perused the various drink options. "That's new."

"And you're still wearing your glasses," Jae Shin said. (Yong Ha didn't look up. Not yet. Give it a minute.) "I thought you probably would be. The more things change, right?"

Yong Ha glanced up at Jae Shin, one eyebrow raised, and - wow, nope, this was going to be a tricky one. Had he always been that fucking gorgeous? "The more they stay the same?" He was almost impressed with how level he could keep his voice.

"So it goes," Jae Shin said simply. And then he smiled, just a little, just a tiny bit - one corner of his mouth twisting upward in that wry grin that Yong Ha still knew by heart - and glanced down at his own menu.

Fuuuck.

Jae Shin glanced up. "Anything jumping out at you? I actually haven't been here before. It just seemed like the kind of place you might like, and I go by it every -" He paused. "- I used to go by it every day."

"I've only been here for a few minutes." Yong Ha pushed his glasses up his nose and tried to actually read the menu this time. "There're a lot of vegetables on here. Not really your typical booze and meat kind of place."

"It seemed like the kind of place you might like," Jae Shin repeated, shrugging with one shoulder.

Yong Ha laid the menu down on the table. Sat back in his chair. Licked his lips. "Why are we here, Jae Shin?"

Jae Shin unbuttoned one of his cuffs and rolled his sleeve up to the elbow. "I actually have a business proposition for you."

What was it about the Moon family? Did they all build their schedules around who would get to fuck around with Gu Yong Ha's life next? Would Jae Shin's father show up out of the blue tomorrow morning trying to buy him breakfast and give him yet another job? "Business proposition," Yong Ha said smoothly. "You're a businessman now?"

"I worked for my father for a few years, learned a couple of things." He unbuttoned the other cuff and rolled it up as well. "I suppose you could say I'm a businessman now, sure."

"Hold up." Yong Ha put up a hand, palm out. "You did what? Worked for your father? _Your_ father? Your _father_. For how long? Years, plural?" He reached across the table and prodded Jae Shin's upper arm as if to test whether he was actually there. "And you're both still alive? You're not a ghost? Wait." He drew back his hand quickly. "Did you murder him? Am I eating dinner with a murderer? Should I call the police?"

"You're hilarious," Jae Shin replied darkly. "Yes, for my father. Yes, for a few years. No, I did not murder him."

Yong Ha reached into his pocket for his cell phone. "I'm not so sure I should trust you. Maybe I should check with your mother just to be sure."

Jae Shin jumped out of his seat, hand reaching out for Yong Ha's arm. "Jesus, don't call my mother! Are you going to listen to me or not?"

And time froze like that - not for long, just for a second - Jae Shin's hand around Yong Ha's arm, their faces only a few inches apart. And god, god, Yong Ha missed him so badly it was like a vise around his lungs. Remember when they were friends, when they were so free with their affection, when they didn't even have to speak to know what the other was thinking? Looking at Jae Shin now, Yong Ha had no clue what was going on in his head. He was a stranger with a familiar face, an adult wearing the mannerisms of a teenager he used to know.

But then Jae Shin choked a little in the back of his throat and snatched his hand back, his face coloring (or maybe Yong Ha imagined it). He slowly sat back down as if trying to pretend he'd never gotten up at all. "My point is," he said, "that you really don't have to call my mother. She's busy, and besides - if I had murdered my own father do you think I would be out here with you?" He flashed a grin. "You're severely underestimating my mother. I'd be strung up in minutes."

"That's fair," Yong Ha replied. "So. This business proposition. I'm willing to listen, provided it's not being proposed by a perpetrator of patricide."

Jae Shin opened his mouth. Closed it again. Looked down at the table top, mouth working. "It'd be better to show you," he said finally. "Look, I'm checking out the location and interviewing some people tomorrow at around 12:30. Do you mind coming with me?" He raised a hand quickly at the look on Yong Ha's face. "There's no obligation! You don't have to do it. I know I'm being vague, but I'm really not sure how to explain without showing you, and if you have a few hours to spare..."

"I'd actually love to," Yong Ha said, sitting back in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest. The funny thing was he wasn't lying, not even a little bit. He'd been able to convince himself over the course of the last three years that the separation was for the best, that they'd never been that close anyway, that apparently Jae Shin hadn't known him that well in the first place, but here and now with Jae Shin across the table, in the flesh? He wanted to go. "But I can't. I have..." He made a vague gesture. "... a thing. At that time. Tomorrow."

Jae Shin swallowed. Waved a hand. Shook his head. "It's fine. Don't worry about it. It was just a dumb -"

"Is there another time I could come by?"

The tension dissipated and Jae Shin blinked. Looked up, eyebrows upturned. Said: "Yes."

And that was it. That was the beginning of the end.  
  


* * *

**Wednesday**  
  


"Yes, Mom. I get it. The guy's a genius."

Jae Shin rubbed his hand over his face, phone pressed to his ear. Sunlight streamed in through high stained-glass windows over the front door, pouring multicolored light over the display case, the door to the kitchen, the stairs leading up to the second level. Dropcloths still hung over everything, the plaster wasn't done on all the walls, dust hung in the air, but already it was looking better than it had last week, or even a few days before. The bakery could probably be ready to open in a week, maybe two.

If he could ever find a pastry chef, that is.

"You went to five different cafes? Wow." He pulled a chair out from one of the few tables already set up and sat down. "Yeah, that's a lot. And they were all terrible? Every single one? Oh. Not the last one." Jae Shin grimaced and scratched the back of his head. At some point he'd have to come up with a reason to get off the phone or he'd be talking like this until his battery ran out. "Which is where you found the guy. Right. What's his name? ... sorry, okay, you don't have to tell me, I get it. I'm sure I'll be very pleased to meet him."

"He's perfect, Shin," his mother said into his ear. "You know you don't know a thing about cake. You asked me to help, and believe me - I have helped. You have to promise me that you'll hire him."

"Provided I can work with him, sure."

"Promise me."

The bell over the door clonked. (He'd have to get that fixed.) Jae Shin looked up even though he knew he couldn't see the front door from where he was sitting. "Mom, I have to go, someone's - okay, okay! I promise, all right? Bye, Mom. I said bye! Mom! I have to go! ... I'm hanging up. Goodbye. I love you too. I'm hanging up right now. I already said I promised, Mom. I'm hanging up."

He scrambled for the End Call button. Exhaled a long sigh. Stuck his cell phone back into the pocket of his pants, and turned toward the front door.

Where Gu Yong Ha stood, blinking in the sunlight.

A part of Jae Shin turned upside down, but if pressed he wouldn't be able to say what it was. "I thought you said you couldn't come," he said, because it was all he could say, because it was all he could think of to say.

"I couldn't," Yong Ha said. The look of confusion on his face was one Jae Shin could only remember having seen twice, maybe three times in all the time they'd been friends. He looked at the folded scrap of paper in his hand. Ran back out the door to stare at the address. Held up the paper to compare the two numbers.

Jae Shin walked over and stood by the open door. "What are you doing?"

"This is a bakery," Yong Ha said, as if questioning his perception of reality. "A bakery. What are you doing in a bakery? You don't know anything about cake. You don't even like cake. What are you doing in a bakery?"

Jae Shin looked over his shoulder into the shop, the fixtures still covered by dropcloths, the lightbulbs uncovered, the chairs still sitting on the tables. "Opening it. Or trying to, anyway." He bit his lip. "Look, I know it's kind of weird. I told you in the restaurant that it'd be better if I showed you."

"This is the job." Yong Ha pointed at him. "This is it. You're the job." He pushed past Jae Shin and wandered into the bakery in a daze.

"I'm the- what are you talking about?"

Yong Ha stopped in the middle of the room, right in front of the display case. He turned. Looked Jae Shin in the eye... and smiled beatifically, hand extended. "I'm told you're looking for a pastry chef," he said sweetly. "Your mother recruited me from my previous patisserie. My name is Gu Yong Ha."


	2. Mischief Managed

"That was nice, what you did."

Moon Geun Soo paused, hand still holding his toothbrush up to his mouth. The toothpaste trembled for a moment in the swing of momentum before overbalancing and tumbling down onto the shining white marble sink. Part of him recoiled slightly at the sight of the lurid blue against the spotless white, but it was overpowered by the uncertainty and discomfort the rest of him felt at his wife's words.

He turned his head to look toward the doorway of the master bathroom, toward the bedroom. Light from the bright white bathroom bounced out onto the blonde wood floors but still he could see the warm dim light of Hae Sook's bedside reading lamp. "What did I do?"

His wife appeared in the doorway, adjusting her dark blue nightgown on her shoulders. Even after nearly 40 years of marriage, two children, more tragedy than she deserved, and her youngest son's consistently poor behavior Eom Hae Sook was still the woman he'd always wanted, would ever want, could ever want. (He had colleagues who had women on the side, women they kept up in apartments across Seoul, but he never had. He'd never considered it and didn't think he ever could. He loved Hae Sook too much and wanted for nothing - not to mention he knew exactly long he would live if he ever betrayed her trust. The number of minutes was too small to be worth mentioning.)

"For Jae Shin." Hae Sook opened her mouth to elaborate but stopped, eyes drawn inexorably to the splat of blue on her otherwise-immaculate bathroom sink. "Are you planning on cleaning that up?"

"I was going to use it," Geun Soo mumbled, glancing down at the toothpaste. "The sink's clean, I can just -"

"Don't even think it," Hae Sook said. "Just because you could eat off these floors doesn't mean you may. Clean that up, get yourself more toothpaste, and reconsider your behavior."

Successfully admonished, Geun Soo wiped the sink and got more toothpaste. He forgot what they'd been talking about just long enough to start brushing his teeth. "What was it I did for Jae Shin?" he asked again, bubbling a little at the corners of his mouth.

"Oh, you know." She tossed a cup of mouthwash back, gargled excessively, and spat into the sink. "He said you gave him the idea. To open his own business." She turned on the tap and swished the bright blue mouthwash down the drain, giving the whole thing a quick once-over with a bleach wipe. (They had a veritable army of housekeepers, all trained personally by Hae Sook to keep everything sterilized to the point that you could use her living room as a surgery theater, but she believed in maintenance with a fervor that most people reserved for religion.)

"He said that?" Geun Soo looked at himself in the mirror, meeting his own eyes. Carefully kept his face blank.

Jae Shin, Jae Shin. If he'd grown up more like his brother they would have gotten along fine (though if Hae Sook knew he thought this she'd find it beyond hilarious) but as it was he'd somehow gotten a stubborn streak a mile wide and they got along like a house on fire - that is, screaming, burning, people dying, destruction raging over entire city blocks unless the fire department got there in time to staunch the conflagration.

Between them they had enough sense to keep the clashing personalities down to a dull roar when Hae Sook was around to throw them irritable glances and threaten to ground them both (something which she could and would accomplish with little difficulty), but it was a close thing most of the time. He'd hoped it would improve after he came back from the army, then when that Gu kid stopped coming around, then when things just got worse he held out hope that once Jae Shin started working a real job he'd come to understand how things were in the adult world and might start cutting his father a little slack every once in a while. Instead Jae Shin had just started phoning it in at work. He didn't take anything seriously. His managers reported that he never came out for after-work drinks.

Of course, like everything, Jae Shin was good at it. He was good at it because he was doing it and that was the only way he did anything - he just didn't care about it while he was doing it well. (Just like in school, when the brat had never turned in his homework and cut class every chance he got but still managed to ace every test. How do you punish for that kind of thing? "Stop being so smart, you're making us look bad"?)

Geun Soo didn't remember exactly how their conversation had gone. It involved yelling, he remembered that much, so maybe it wasn't a conversation so much as it was an argument. (Maybe a fight, he conceded.) Jae Shin needed to step up, man up. Find a wife. Take things seriously at work or he'd have to find his own way in the -

Oh.

"I suppose I did," he said mildly, not breaking eye contact with himself in the mirror.

He thought about telling Hae Sook about what had really happened. He thought about calling Jae Shin and informing him of how things were supposed to go in this family. He thought about doing a lot of things.

Instead he looked at his wife, at the look on her face, at the way she seemed so thoroughly convinced that her husband and youngest son had somehow reached a turning point in their relationship and the way she seemed so thoroughly relieved.

"I suppose I did," he said again, and left it there.

 

Gu Yong Ha swung his feet up under the table onto the seat across from him and whistled through his teeth. "How do you rate, getting a hanok for a bakery?"

"Hanok-inspired," Jae Shin corrected. "It actually used to be a house - the upstairs still has a full bathroom and everything. It was up for lease and nobody else was interested. You should have seen it before work started."

"That bad?"

"Worse. Get your feet off the chairs."

"They're only on one of them." Yong Ha cleared his throat and moved his feet to the ground at the look on Jae Shin's face. "So what are you going to call it?"

Jae Shin stared straight ahead.

"No." Yong Ha leaned forward. "Are you serious? You don't even have a name for the damn thing?"

"I'm working on it."

"Sure," Yong Ha drawled skeptically. "I'd love to see that flowchart, let me tell you." He glanced at Jae Shin's face out of the corner of his eye, and relented. "Well, it's old, right? Full of history or whatever. It looks like a hanok and the inside is all art nouveau and you've got two old friends running the place."

Jae Shin made a face at him and crossed his arms tight over his chest. (What he didn't say was: _old friends? You left._ ) "And?"

"And so maybe call it Antique Bakery?"

"That sounds like we're grandmothers."

"So something else that means 'old as balls?' Retro, then. Ancient. Antediluvian."

Jae Shin's eyebrows went up skeptically. "Antediluvian Bakery?"

Yong Ha paused, mouth open. "Okay, no, you're right. I feel like that's inviting a water-damage-related insurance claim. How about Vintage?"

"Vintage Bakery," Jae Shin said slowly. He slid down a little in his chair and stared out the window, chewing thoughtfully on the inside of his cheek. "That might work."

That got him a victorious fist pump. "See? See? I'm a genius. Your mom said I was a genius and she's right."

A breeze blew through the door, and the bell hanging from the door frame clonked miserably.

Yong Ha glanced up at Jae Shin, a smirk at the corner of his mouth. "Of course, you'll have to get that fixed."

"I'll have to get that fixed," Jae Shin echoed.

 

Two old generals met at the table, partners in a long war against one all-consuming enemy. They met as siblings, as old friends separated by time and distance. They sat with the lazy, confident posture of the comfortably and absolutely powerful, secure in their status and fearing nothing - wary, of course, but fully aware of their own invulnerability.

"So," Seo Il Hwa said, sitting back in her chair and bringing the steaming coffee cup to her mouth. She smiled that sideways smile that her youngest son had inherited, the one that meant Mischief Managed (or, sometimes, I Solemnly Swear I Am Up To No Good). "You did it."

"Just gave things a push," Eom Hae Sook replied, scooping another heaping spoonful of sugar into her coffee. Il Hwa (bless her heart) only kept instant coffee in the house, and while Hae Sook was far from a snob, she was accustomed to a slightly higher level of caffeination delivery. "It helped immensely that Yong Ha is the best pastry chef I've come across in years. Do you know, I found out later that Jae Shin was already going to ask Yong Ha to be part of the business?"

They sat on opposite sides of Il Hwa's kitchen table - an ancient chunk of wood that her mother had handed down before she died, discolored and worn but so lovingly maintained that it could have been one of those artistically destroyed art pieces in a museum. Somewhere on the underside of the table Moon Jae Shin and Gu Yong Ha had carved their names into the wood and had gotten so thoroughly beaten for it neither of them sat down for a meal for three days.

"That little punk," Il Hwa grumbled affectionately, shaking her head. "Three years of hard work for us, and he just up and makes my Yong Ha a business proposal?"

"I've been working on him." Hae Sook took a sip and did not (did not) make a face. "I'm going to at least pretend that I had something to do with this development."

"And things are going well? Yong Ha doesn't tell me much these days. I think he's too busy for his old mother."

"Things are going well. I don't put up with Jae Shin keeping too much from me."

"Mm," Il Hwa said diplomatically. She paused. Stirred her coffee. "So... have you figured out why?"

"Why they stopped talking?" Hae Sook sighed. Shrugged. Set her mug carefully down on a paper napkin just in case. "Still no clue. To be honest I don't know if Jae Shin knows either. I know he thinks it's his fault - if he can't blame something on his father then he takes the blame himself no matter how ridiculous it is - but I still don't know what happened."

"I don't think Yong Ha meant it to happen this way," Il Hwa said, choosing her words carefully. She wasn't friends with Hae Sook so much as she was a co-conspirator, and the other woman was older and richer enough to still make her nervous even after all these years. "He had to leave so quickly for the military and there wasn't anything he could have done about it."

"They seem to be good for each other." Hae Sook pursed her lips thoughtfully. "Or at least they always were, once upon a time."

"Hopefully this will stick. Maybe someday we'll find out what happened."

"It's a pity. If either of them had been a girl I'd have wanted to set them up."

Il Hwa glanced at her friend over the edge of her cup. Yong Ha didn't tell her much these days, that much was true, but there was only so much you can hide from your mother - and Gu Yong Ha certainly hadn't gotten his talent for observation and deduction from his father. "Yes," she said delicately. "If either of them had been a girl."


	3. The Difference Between a Macaron and a Macaroon

The sun was setting. It was a Monday in early September. Jae Shin took a drag on his cigarette and idly scuffed his bare feet on the patio outside the sliding glass door of his apartment, watching the Seoul sky streak pink and orange and flaming purple. He dug a hand down into the pocket of his jeans and thought about absolutely nothing at all.

Ever since the early mornings in the army Moon Jae Shin hadn't quite gotten the hang of being a night owl again, but he was starting to learn. He had been learning all kinds of new things over the past two months, most of them unpleasant, so remembering how to stay up late was one of the nicest things on his plate. God, had it already been two months? He tried to draw again on the cigarette but the tip flared and burned his fingers, so instead he dropped into a squat. Rubbed the butt out on the patio. Passed a hand over his face before standing up again and stepping over the threshold of the sliding glass door back into the apartment.

The air outside was cool but not cold, so he left the door open as he wandered through the apartment, picking up dishes, straightening the stack of books on the kitchen counter. The bakery was still just him and Gu Yong Ha (somehow he hadn't managed to find anyone good to hire) so the only day he had to himself was on Mondays, when the bakery closed its doors and they both had the day off. It was the only day he had away from both Yong Ha and the bakery and he knew he should be relieved, but instead he wasn't sure what to do with himself all day, so he smoked and cleaned and read poetry and tried to ignore the phone.

A sound filtered in from outside - footsteps, someone whistling poorly under their breath. Then the doorbell rang.

Jae Shin stood still in his living room, staring at his front door. No one rang his doorbell. He didn't have any friends and his mother had a key. It was either a mistake or a salesman, maybe. He waited in silence for a minute, willing the stranger on his doorstep to get the hint and walk away.

Instead they rang the doorbell again, and knocked three times for good measure.

Jae Shin sighed. Looked down at his bare feet, his loose, ratty jeans. Adjusted his shirt so that he didn't look quite so much like a hobo, and went to answer the door.

The door swung open under his hand. "What," he said, and stopped, mouth open.

Gu Yong Ha grinned wide and winked from behind his horn-rimmed glasses, holding up an overstuffed plastic bag in one hand. "Hey, boss," he said. "I brought chicken, beer, and my books. Are you ready to learn?" Then he paused. Leaned in close. Jae Shin jerked back despite himself. "Have you been smoking?"

"No," Jae Shin lied.

"Don't smoke," Yong Ha said, sidestepping around him into the apartment. "It'll become a habit, and it's bad for you. Where should I put the chicken?"

Jae Shin closed the front door, flipped the deadlock, and followed after him like a lost puppy, equal parts confused and irritated. "What are you doing here?"

Yong Ha parked the plastic bag on the kitchen counter without asking permission. Swung his over-stuffed shoulder bag off and set it on the floor with his right hand. Opened up a few cupboards and started digging through them for plates, chopsticks, glasses. "Don't you ever cook for yourself? Where's all your - oh, got it. We're good. You had me worried for a second."

"What are you doing here?"

Yong Ha looked at Jae Shin over his glasses and grinned, flipping a glass from one hand to the other before setting it down on the counter and cracking open a can of Hite. "Remember how you don't know shit about cake? Now sit down before I take my chicken and go home. You have some studying to do."

 

* * *

**Two Weeks Ago**

  
"It can't be something with alcohol," the woman said again. She clutched her son's hand tightly. "He's allergic to alcohol. It can't have alcohol."

"We have a lot of things without alcohol," Jae Shin said, digging through the glass display case and trying to remember what all of the stupid French names meant. Finally he just grabbed something at random and presented it. He hiccuped nervously. "Charlotte à la Framboise?" Framboise just meant raspberry, right? It looked red. It just had raspberries in the filling. Kids liked fruit. Raspberries were fruit.

The woman glared at it. "Does it have alcohol?"

Hopefully not, but hell if he knew. "It shouldn't. Shall I wrap it up for you?"

A few minutes later he stuck his head through the door of the bakery kitchen and rapped on the wall. Gu Yong Ha looked up, arched an eyebrow, and patted flour off his hands. "What?"

"Does Charlotte à la Framboise have any alcohol?"

This got him a wary look. "Why?"

"Because I just sold it to somebody with an alcohol allergy."

Yong Ha closed his eyes and exhaled a long breath. "Are you kidding?"

Jae Shin threw his hands in the air. "Yes? No? What's the right answer?"

Somewhere out in the empty cafe a bell clonked. (He'd have to get that fixed.)

Yong Ha glared at Jae Shin over his glasses and pointed out the door past him. "You're going to end up killing someone if you don't learn more about your own damn merchandise. Better yet, hire somebody who won't refuse to eat cake so you don't have to. Get out of here and stop making so much noise, my meringue is going to fall."

Jae Shin huffed irritably and stormed out again, but Yong Ha's words followed after him: "And fix that fucking bell!"

 

* * *

**The Present**

  
"So when did you get to be a pastry chef, anyway?" Jae Shin leaned back in his chair, leg up, beer in hand, arm extended and balanced on his knee. "Kind of seems like something that people do on purpose."

"It just sort of happened," Yong Ha replied, flipping through a stained cookbook. He licked his thumb and fought with two pages that had gotten stuck together. "You know how I went to Paris and learned how to make croissants? There's a lot more to learn than just croissants, and you can't really just take a course on croissants. Though," he added thoughtfully, the pages finally peeling apart, "you really should be able to. Croissants are the worst."

"So you became a pastry chef in France?"

"No, that kind of came later. I learned how to bake in France, sure, but after I got out of the army I couldn't find work so I got a job in a bakery here and, well..." Yong Ha grinned up at him. "The rest is history."

Jae Shin held the beer to his lips, then paused, appearing to think better of it. "My mom says you're a genius," he said.

Yong Ha cocked his head coyly. "This is news to you?"

"When it comes to cake? Yes. Since when do you cook?"

"Since four years ago," Yong Ha replied, reaching for a second cookbook. "Stoves are still a mystery to me, except for when it comes to crepes and frosting. Don't ask me to cook a steak or fix a stew. Give me access to an oven, though..."

"I get it," Jae Shin said, waving a hand. He shoved the cookbook closer to Yong Ha's grasping hand. "You're a genius, right?"

"Some would say so."

"My mother, for one."

"And you?"

Jae Shin blinked, mouth full of beer. Yong Ha wasn't looking at him, focusing all of his attention on the books lying open in front of him on the table instead. He got the feeling that the question meant more than the words with which it had been comprised, but he couldn't figure out why. He thought about how Yong Ha had left for the military without a word. He thought about how Yong Ha had volunteered to go to Afghanistan without telling him. He thought about the decade of inseparable friendship, the two years of constant contact, the one night he'd fucked it all up somehow, the three years of silence since. He thought about what the question might mean, and gave up - feeling more stupid and more tipsy than he would have liked.

"Why not?" Jae Shin said, and took another sip of beer. "You always were top of the class. What would make baking any different?"

Yong Ha smiled, but didn't look up. "Okay, I think I have everything ready. I'm not going home until you know the difference between a macaron and a macaroon."

"What's a macaron?"

"I hate you sometimes. Do you know that?"

Jae Shin shoved the cookbook away and flopped over on the table. "This is terrible. I hate this. I don't even like cake."

Yong Ha picked the cookbook back up and laid it in front of Jae Shin again, patting it comfortingly. "We both work because we have to," he said, "but business is business. Put some effort into it or you'll end up killing a customer. Or me," he added, reaching out and picking up can after can after can of Hite, trying to find one that wasn't empty. "Did you really drink this much? I was kind of expecting you to have slowed down - you're not a college kid any more, you know. Do you even have blood anymore or does your heart just pump alcohol these days?"

"What more do you want?" Jae Shin propped himself up on an elbow. Grabbed an unopened can of beer. Tossed it to Yong Ha, who caught it out of the air with an appreciative grin. "I'm doing my best here, all right?"

The can hissed and spat as Yong Ha cracked it open, carbonation bubbling up and over so that Yong Ha had to catch it on the side of the can with his mouth. (Maybe Jae Shin shouldn't have thrown it, but the visual was worth it - not every day you got to see the perfectly composed Gu Yong Ha suck the foam from an over-excited beer can.) "Sure, sure. You still need to study, boss."

Jae Shin glared at him. "Don't call me boss, it's weird." He flipped a page of the cookbook. "And why? Why do I need to do this? You're the pastry chef, not me."

Yong Ha licked a speck of foam from his upper lip and stood up, leaning over the table to flip the page back to the first page of the appendix. He tapped the top of the page. "At least learn the names." He glanced up at Jae Shin over the frames of his glasses, and flashed that vulpine grin he'd always reserved for those moments when he knew precisely how much of a little shit he was being. "Just think what your cake pervert is going to say to you next time if you can't even remember the names."

Jae Shin shuddered. "Don't even talk about him."

"Cake pervert. Cake pervert. Cake pervert." Yong Ha leaned over the table. "I'm not going to stop until you get studying."

"I'm studying, I'm studying!" Jae Shin rubbed the back of his neck with a hand and glanced at the clock on the microwave. "God, it's after midnight... can't we do this tomorrow?"

"Depends," Yong Ha said. "What's the difference between a macaron and a macaroon?"

"I hate you."

"You love me." Yong Ha grinned and shook his head. "Fine, we'll forget about the difference between a macaron and a macaroon for today. We don't sell macaroons at the bakery anyway. Let's focus instead on what has alcohol - all right?"

Jae Shin looked up in dismay. "Do we have to start over?"

"Not if you've been paying attention so far. Flip to page 40 in the book you've got there, it has some good info on baking with alcohol."

"There are like twenty-five things on this page alone."

"Isn't cake amazing?"

 

* * *

**One Week Ago**

  
Jae Shin swallowed. Willed himself to be polite. Smile. Smile. Smile. "May I-"

"Tarte au Chocolat, Mille-feuille aux Fraises, Onctueuse Jivara Lactee." The man glanced up at him. He was tall and thin, not the kind of person you'd expect to be eating quite so much cake. "One of each."

Well, shit. Who knew what those were? He got down on his knees and prayed that it would be easy. "Onctue...?"

"Bottom row, third from the right."

It took a truly embarrassing amount of time but eventually he got everything together, wrapped up, and paid for. The man sighed, mumbled something under his breath and left. Jae Shin leaned forward slowly and rested his forehead on the glass. Squeezed his eyes shut. Dreamed of a day when he wouldn't have to put up with this kind of shit anymore.

Yong Ha came up behind him and slapped his back. "Cheer up, you big weirdo."

"I hate that guy. He's such a creep. Do all cake shops have their very own cake perverts? This was a terrible idea."

"I know," Yong Ha said, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the display case. "Good to see you figuring that out as well. Given any thought to maybe hiring someone?"

Jae Shin stood up straight again and rubbed a hand over his face. "I just haven't found anyone good yet, I'm still -"

"Bullshit," Yong Ha interrupted, shaking his head. He pushed a sheet of paper over the glass toward Jae Shin. "I made this for you. Go post it outside or else."

"Or else what?" Jae Shin pulled the sheet of paper out from under Yong Ha's hand and peered at it irritably. "Now hiring male employees?"

"Or else I quit or something, I don't know. I don't want to be complicit in a murder, which is what'll end up happening eventually if you keep selling Charlotte à la Framboise to people with alcohol allergies."

Jae Shin looked up. "So it does have alcohol?"

"It's completely full of pear brandy, shithead," Yong Ha snapped. "Yes, it has alcohol. Let's just hope you don't get sued."

"Why only male employees?"

"Because I know you," Yong Ha said, and pushed off from the display case. Went back into the kitchen. "Post that outside!"

Jae Shin stared at the swinging kitchen door, the sign still in his hand. Because he knew him? What was that supposed to mean? He glared at the words. Male employees. Ah, shit. Did Yong Ha still think...?

Whatever, whatever - it's not like he could do anything about it now. Jae Shin scratched the back of his head, sighed, picked up the sign and glared at it. He could pretend to be in charge all he liked, but they both knew who was really the boss.

 

* * *

**The Present**

  
Yong Ha kicked him underneath the table. "Pay attention."

"I can't pay attention anymore," Jae Shin said, tucking his ankles in the legs of his chair and out of Yong Ha's reach. He was bent over a stack of cookbooks and magazines three wide and five high, covered in highlighter marks and sticky notes, his head in his hands and his heart in his throat. "Don't kick me or I'll come over there."

Yong Ha grinned sleepily. Yawned, stretched. Reached out to collect empty beer cans and set them aside at the edge of the table. "And what?"

"And make you sorry," Jae Shin mumbled ineffectually. He propped himself up on one elbow. "I don't know, what would you do if someone kicked you?"

Yong Ha pursed his lips thoughtfully, cocking his head to one side. He stood, grabbing an impressive number of cans in each splayed hand. "Depends, I suppose. How cute are they?"

Jae Shin looked up, jaw in one hand. The other he let fall to the table, scattering four magazines and a permanent marker. "Exactly as cute as you."

"Impossible!" Yong Ha crowed, toeing open the cupboard under Jae Shin's sink and dropping the cans into the recycling bin with a resounding clatter. He kicked it closed again as he turned, leaned back against the sink, crossed his arms over his chest, and positively twinkled. "No one in the world is exactly as cute as me. Try again, boss."

"Don't call me boss. And yes, exactly as cute as you." Jae Shin waved his free hand in a broad, lazy gesture. "Try to imagine a world in which there may be two people precisely as cute as you."

"I don't think you could handle a world like that, Shin," Yong Ha said. He yawned hugely behind the back of his hand, then took off his glasses to rub his eyes. "And if there were, hypothetically, two of me... come on now. I think you'd know exactly what I'd do."

It was the first time he'd seen Yong Ha without glasses in three and a half years. He'd been able to pretend, these past few months, that maybe this was someone else; a stranger with his best friend's mouth, his best friend's voice, his best friend's stupid obsession with scarves. But suddenly instead it was Gu Yong Ha (that damn kid) who was in his kitchen, tired but grinning, glasses dangling from one hand, a smear of cheap magazine ink on one cheek bone. He almost got up out of his chair. He almost walked into the kitchen. He almost, almost, almost.

Instead he said: "I really, really have no idea." (Because what else could he say?)

Yong Ha stuck out his tongue and licked the corner of his mouth in the most wicked expression of unbridled humor Jae Shin had seen in years. "Maybe I shouldn't say. Are you still a virgin?" And slid his glasses back on, becoming that stranger again.

Jae Shin blinked. "What?"

"It's a sex joke, Shin," Yong Ha said slowly, as if speaking to a small child. He came back to the table and leaned against it, peering beyond the dining room into Jae Shin's living room. "I'm trying to imply that I would have sex with myself." He reached across the table and plucked three, four, five of the magazines from in front of Jae Shin without looking away from the living room. "Is that a couch? A white leather couch?"

"You would have sex with yourself?" Jae Shin repeated stupidly. He felt very strongly that somewhere there was a thread to this conversation and it was no longer where he'd thought it had been. "What?"

"Try to keep up, will you?" Yong Ha walked around the table, past Jae Shin, into the living room. His voice echoed off the high ceilings when he called back into the dining room. "Jesus Christ, Shin. This is the fanciest fucking living room I've seen since the last time I visited your mom's house. Is that a hand carved coffee table? Jesus damn."

"Stop mooning over my furniture." Jae Shin pushed out from the dining room table and stood, stretching his arms high over his head (his back cracked six times) before sighing and following Yong Ha into the living room. He didn't mind, not really - anything to keep Yong Ha's mind off of cake. "What are you doing?"

"Enjoying myself," Yong Ha said, his voice muffled. He was lying face down on Jae Shin's (white, leather) couch, his glasses lying on the floor next to him. "What does it look like?"

"Couldn't say," Jae Shin replied, sticking his hands into his pockets and trying not to let his grin creep into his voice. "I'm still a virgin, remember? Who knows what you self-fucking types get up to when faced with a fancy couch."

"The fanciest fucking couch," Yong Ha corrected, still face down in the leather. "Do you know what I have in my apartment, Shin?"

"What?" Jae Shin looked out the sliding glass door that opened onto his patio, at the cigarette butt he'd rubbed out - god, hours ago - and wondered if he'd be able to sneak out for a minute.

"A table," Yong Ha sighed. He wiggled a little, settling into the couch. "And like... three floor pillows. My mom got them for me at the Express Terminal in Gangnam when I came home from the military and got my own place. They cost 2,000 won each. 2,000 won, Shin!"

"What a good deal...?"

Silence from the couch. "Good point," Yong Ha replied finally, faintly, sleepily. "It was a good deal. Do you have any blankets?"

"Probably somewhere."

Yong Ha turned his head and opened one eye to glare up at Jae Shin. "... could I please have one?"

"Let me think about it," Jae Shin said, wandering over to a chest in the corner. He pulled it open and tugged out a large fleece blanket, the kind of blanket his mother would have never allowed past the front door, the kind of blanket that he'd always smuggled into the house anyway. (The kind of blanket Gu Yong Ha's mother kept.) "I'll let you know."

"You're such an asshole," Gu Yong Ha said, his eyes closed again.

"I know," Jae Shin said, throwing the blanket over that damn kid, being careful not to step on his glasses. "You're not exactly an angel yourself. Better?"

"Mm."

A breath of wind made the hairs on his arms stand up. Jae Shin tore his eyes away from Yong Ha curled up on the couch (eyes closed, smile on his lips, face angled upward like an angel in some renaissance painting) and looked at the patio door, still standing open just like it had been hours ago. The last of a pack of cigarettes was on the other side of the door, tucked into the corner of the patio out of the wind, and he moved toward the opening despite himself.

Took hold of the handle. Pulled the sliding door closed. Flipped the latch, closed the shades, turned off the light that illuminated that little patch of concrete and gravel in the nighttime.

Jae Shin ran a hand up his forehead, over his hair, down his neck. Turned to look at the dining room table, still scattered with books and the detritus of two packs of chicken and two six packs of Hite. At Yong Ha's messenger bag, empty and sagging where it hung from the back of one of the chairs. At the white leather couch, where Yong Ha sighed in his sleep underneath a fleece blanket.

He levered himself down to the floor next to the couch, leaning against the overstuffed leather. "It's been five years exactly," Jae Shin said quietly. He glanced over his shoulder at Yong Ha's face - his mouth was open (just barely), his eyes closed, his breathing steady. Asleep, and looking for all the world like that eleven year old kid from fifteen years ago who wouldn't leave him alone. "You remember?" Of course he didn't. Stupid question. "September 9th. My first leave from the army."

Jae Shin stretched his legs out in front of him. "You got me really drunk," he said. "You owed me twenty drinks, and you paid it all back with interest. I don't think I'd been that drunk since..." Stupid, stupid. Don't mention the night before Nonsan. What are you thinking? "... since a long time before that." Christ. Jae Shin scrubbed his face with both hands. "It's not important. I just... it's been five years, is all. Five years today."

What he didn't say was: _remember when we were friends?_

What he didn't say was: _remember when you called me "hyung" instead of "boss" when you wanted to get on my nerves?_

What he didn't say was: _remember when you always picked up the phone when I called? When you tutored me in math class? When I didn't have to say a word for you to know what I was thinking?_

What he said instead was: "I really miss that." But it came out almost silently, more a breath of air than even a whisper, and it was a good thing Yong Ha was asleep because - god - how embarrassing would that be? Terminally embarrassing. He'd have to change his name again, leave the country, maybe get plastic surgery and hide in a mountain. (And he was out of names, so that was right out.)

He stood up. Rubbed the life back into his arms. Turned off all the lights. Went to bed.

The bedroom door clicked shut behind him and Yong Ha opened his eyes in the darkness. Sat up. Stared at the spot where Jae Shin had leaned against the couch.

"Huh," he said quietly to himself.

When the nightmares started, Yong Ha was still wide awake - but this time he was in another room; 30 feet, a bedroom door, and a chasm between them.


	4. Triple-shot Caramel Mocha

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact about coffee shops in Seoul: with virtually no exception, coffee shops don't open until 7am at the absolute earliest. (I don't know either.)
> 
> Fun facts about bathrooms in South Korea: I've only seen one bathroom with an actual enclosed shower (that wasn't a hotel room bathroom) and it was in an apartment inhabited by a westerner.

 The girl on the other side of the counter held up a cardboard to-go cup in one hand, a permanent marker poised in the other. "Triple-shot caramel mocha? With extra whip? And sprinkles?" She paused, and bit her lip. "For your girlfriend?"

Gu Yong Ha didn't open his eyes all the way. Over the last two months or so he had grown quickly and inextricably accustomed to staying up late and sleeping in even later, but even familiarized as he was to late nights he was no longer accustomed to drinking until one o'clock in the morning and then being kept up by Jae Shin's nightmares until at least three. Had he ever been used to that? Was that something a body could get used to? It didn't seem possible. Maybe the nightmares had gotten worse or something.

"No," he said shortly, listing slightly to one side like a boat caught on a sand bar. "Not my girlfriend."

She grinned. "Should I put a name on the cup?"

"A name?" Yong Ha opened his eyes a little wider and gave her a closer look. Short. Cute. Looked too smart for her own good. (Always a bonus.) He smiled, winked, cocked his head mischievously. "I'm Gu Yong Ha."  


 

Most bakeries open early in the morning, when people are on their way to work and in need of some caffeine, breakfast, something warm. Across Seoul, cafes and bakeries of all sorts turned their lights on, unlocked their front doors, flipped around the sign in the window, put out sandwich boards, all before seven o'clock in the morning.

At Vintage, Moon Jae Shin's two month old harebrained idea, the back door unlocked at eight o'clock in the morning. The lights in the kitchen clicked on. All across the city, bakers and baristas had already been working for hours by the time Gu Yong Ha got to work. (Opening up shop at noon had its perks.)

He leaned against the door frame and fought with the lock for a minute or two before it clicked open, finally letting him stumble inside and grope for the light switch. The white tile gleamed under the artificial light and he squinted in the glare, pushing his glasses up his nose and kicking the door shut behind him. The keys went into his shoulder bag, the coffee cup in his hand went on the butcher block counter top, the shoulder bag went on the hook, the chef coat came down from the hook and over his shoulders. It was like a song he knew by heart - things may have changed, sure, but every morning was the same routine it had been for the past year - keys, coffee, bag, coat.

He was halfway through turning on the ovens and hauling the first of the prep racks out of the walk-in freezer (left shoulder stiff like it was every day on cold mornings) when Moon Jae Shin stuck his head through the door that lead to the public areas of the bakery, rapped on the wall, and very nearly gave him a heart attack. "You're late."

It was a testament to Yong Ha's nerves that he barely flinched at all - just paused, hand still on the dial, and turned his chin ever so slightly so that he could see Jae Shin out of the corner of his eye. (God forbid he let the bastard clue in to his surprise.) "I'm not late," he said. "You're just early. What are you doing here? Why aren't you in bed? You drank like a college student last night."

Jae Shin looked at the floor for a second, hanging off the door jamb by one hand, before looking up again and shrugging. "I couldn't sleep."

"Could've fooled me." Yong Ha tapped the oven rack to test the heat (and immediately regretted it) before turning to look at Jae Shin, sticking his burned finger in his mouth. "I got up in the middle of the night and you were sleeping like a rock. Your bathroom is just as fancy as your living room, by the way, and I'm not sure I approve. I don't know anybody else with an enclosed shower."

"You went in my room?"

Yong Ha's eyebrows went up and he popped his finger back out of his mouth. "Really? You think I need to go into your room to know how hard you're sleeping? I'm Gu Yong Ha." He turned back to the bank of ovens, used his elbow to slam the door shut on the offending oven, and gave the whole row of them a nasty look to keep them in line. "Nightmares still haven't gotten any better, huh?"

Jae Shin made a noncommittal grunting noise and idly swung the door back and forth with one hand. "I've got the espresso machine fired up, you want anything?"

"You? Make coffee?" Yong Ha lingered for a moment, one hand on a prep rack. His eyes rolled upward as he considered the concept. "I guess that depends. Have you gotten any better at it in the last five, six years? I remember when you made coffee in the dorm. I couldn't get the smell out of the sheets for weeks."

"Okay, okay. I get it."

"I'm just giving you shit. I already got something on the way here."

The door swung open the rest of the way and Jae Shin wandered into the kitchen, picked up Yong Ha's cup, peered at the hieroglyphs on the side with narrowed eyes. "Triple shot caramel mocha, extra whip, with sprinkles." He looked up. "Why am I not surprised?"

"Not all of us can drink black coffee like it's water," Yong Ha said coolly. "I have a sensitive stomach. It's a curse."

Jae Shin made a face and set the coffee cup back down on the counter top. "Don't talk to me about your bodily functions."

"I didn't say a thing about my bodily functions."

"And anyway, I thought it was milk you couldn't handle. Isn't this sort of drink full of milk?"

Yong Ha turned and looked at Jae Shin - really looked at him, didn't just let his eyes slide over him in a moment of distraction. He was leaning back against the counter top, legs crossed, arms folded over his chest, head back, eyes closed. He looked tired, like he always did, and he hadn't shaved in a few days. Yong Ha been trying not to look at him too much since that afternoon in the restaurant when Jae Shin had shown up out of nowhere and knocked the breath out of him (had he always been that gorgeous? but it was a stupid question - Yong Ha knew that yes, of course, of course Jae Shin had always been exactly precisely completely that obnoxiously gorgeous) but it was hard sometimes not to. Not to try to see the Jae Shin he used to know, the teenager he'd fallen head over heels for at eleven years old.

It was funny - sometimes Yong Ha felt invisible to him, just a source of pastries and kitchen noise, and other times Jae Shin made him feel like the most important person in the universe. He couldn't remember mentioning anything about milk to him but Jae Shin still knew, still remembered, even after who knows how long (three and a half years, it had been three and a half years) of little to no contact.

"I'm okay with some milk," he said. "Just not, you know, tons of it."

"Good to know. I'll keep it in mind the next time I'm thinking about buying you a cow." Jae Shin sighed, grimaced, slapped his face a few times with both hands as if to wake himself up. "I'm going to make myself some coffee. If you change your mind I'll be in the front doing some bookkeeping."

And then he was gone, door swinging in his wake. Yong Ha let out a long, sighing breath and shook his head, turning back to the racks.

"Wait, I forgot -" The door slammed open and Jae Shin was in the threshold again. "- the difference between a macaron and a macaroon is that a macaron is a French meringue sandwich cookie and a macaroon is an Italian cake made out of almonds and coconut." He grinned and retreated again, letting the door close on him.

"Fine, I believe you," Yong Ha yelled after him, "you really couldn't sleep."

Jae Shin's voice filtered through the window looking into the kitchen. "I told you!"

"Does this mean I can go home?"

"Just fucking bake something before I fire you for insubordination."  


 

"Look," Yong Ha was saying, a nervous grin playing over his face, the kind of look he got when he wasn't sure yet whether he was going to get out of a self-inflicted predicament unscathed. He was edging back behind the display case, both hands up in a placating gesture. "The thing is-"

"I called you seven times." The woman was - well, she was really more of a girl, or at least had paid a lot of money to look like it - she was advancing, wringing her hands together. "Seven times!"

Jae Shin's steps slowed as he rounded the corner. You learn things after a couple of decades picking fights with people stronger than you, and he took the time to assess the situation. The girl (woman? young woman?) didn't seem at all dangerous, just distraught and possibly a little unhinged, though Yong Ha seemed more nervous than "distraught and possibly a little unhinged" seemed to warrant, so maybe there was more here than met the eye.

He'd never called someone more than once at a time to get a response, so maybe that was part of it? (Well, his mother of course, but - okay, and Yong Ha. But that was a long time ago.)

He steeled himself. On the one hand, he could definitely take her down if things came to blows. On the other, she was a woman, and women were scary.

Jae Shin stepped out into the main foyer of the bakery anyway and tried not to hiccup as both pairs of eyes swung around simultaneously to rest on him. "What's going on here?" Jae Shin said, and was unbelievably proud of himself for keeping his voice level for the half second before he hiccuped anyway, ruining everything.

The woman blinked. "Who the hell are you?"

"Who the hell am I?" Jae Shin stepped forward, forcing his diaphragm to stay down through sheer force of will. "I'm -"

And in a split second Yong Ha was next to him, one hand on his arm and the other on his back, leaning in close against him. Jae Shin barely had time to blink before Yong Ha clenched his fingers tight around his elbow and said: "This is my boyfriend."

"Your what?" the woman said.

"Your _what_?" Jae Shin said, in almost exactly the same pitch.

"Look," Yong Ha said, pinching Jae Shin at the softest part of his waist (an act which carried more information than a Shakespearean monologue), "we met once -"

"Twice!" the woman protested.

"- make it twice, then, but that was over three months ago," Yong Ha continued, hardly missing a beat. "It was beautiful and moving - in more ways than one - but I'm the kind of person that was made to be shared."

"Hey!" Jae Shin barked.

"That was before we met, darling," Yong Ha said in a saccharine, conciliatory tone, and pinched harder. Jae Shin attempted to struggle but Yong Ha's hand was tight around his arm. "You really don't need to worry."

"You're gay and you never even -" She stuttered to a halt. "But you were so -"

"I think maybe you should go," Yong Ha said, voice gentle but firm. "Unless you'd like to buy something."

With only a few more protestations (and more information about Yong Ha's bedroom prowess than Jae Shin had ever, ever wanted to know - god, she had to be exaggerating, right? there was no way the human body could sustain that level of frantic activity for that long) she was gone. For a moment after the door shut on her back there was quiet in the bakery - the sun shone in through the stained glass, a breath of wind made the swinging door into the kitchen creak just slightly.

Yong Ha very slowly turned toward Jae Shin - hands up, palms out - with the most contrite look on his face that Jae Shin had ever seen. "I have no idea how she found me," he said, laying a hand on Jae Shin's shoulder. "I don't even usually tell them what I do for a living, but maybe I told this one? Anyway, sorry about that."

"Your boyfriend?" Jae Shin shook Yong Ha's hand off his arm and rubbed his waist tenderly. "That's going to bruise."

"I know, I know." Yong Ha flashed a stiff smile, uncertain and dilute. "I promise, if there had been another way -"

"Just give me some warning next time," Jae Shin interrupted. "Christ, that really hurt. Come up with a code word or something, just don't pinch me again." He paused. Gave Yong Ha a funny look out of the corner of his eye. "Is there going to be a next time? How many people have you slept with?"

Yong Ha pursed his lips, put a hand to his chin, and looked up at the ceiling in an expression of mock thoughtfulness. "Recently?"

"You're hopeless."

"On the contrary," Yong Ha said, winking and elbowing Jae Shin in the ribs, "I'm absolutely full of hope for the future and whatever wonders might be found there."

"I'm serious. Is this going to happen again?"

Yong Ha made an attempt at grinning disarmingly but gave it up quickly, instead coughing into his fist and turning on one heel to flee (with a smooth, unhurried gait - certainly not the gait of a hunted man) back into the kitchen. "Look, I don't do it on purpose."

Jae Shin followed him like his own personal thunder cloud, pushing through the swinging door and glowering at the butcher block counter top still covered in cake flour from that morning. "Don't do what on purpose?"

"Do you have to follow me around like that? It feels like it's going to start raining." Yong Ha rolled up the sleeves of his chef's coat and gave Jae Shin a Look over his glasses. "The people. I can't help it. I don't do anything, they just... fall in love with me. It's not up to them whether they like me or not. Okay, okay, I know how it sounds," he added quickly, raising his hands defensively at the look on Jae Shin's face, "but believe me, all right?"

Jae Shin glared at him for a long time before closing his eyes, rubbing his face, and letting out a long, slow breath. "I don't know what to believe anymore where you're concerned," he said. "Just... try to keep it off the job, all right? Women weeping for your affections on the doorstep. It's bad for business."

"Right," Yong Ha said, a smile fixed on his face. "Women."  


 

The girl on the other side of the counter held up a cardboard to-go cup in one hand, a permanent marker poised in the other. "Triple-shot caramel mocha, extra whip and sprinkles. Right?" She paused, and raised her eyebrows. "Not awake yet?"

"Still working on it," Gu Yong Ha admitted blurrily. "'S what the coffee's for. How'd you remember all that?"

She grinned. "Just doing my job, Gu Yong Ha. Same name on the cup today?"

"Same name I had last week," he replied, and leaned against the counter to watch her hand move as she wrote on the cup. "Good handwriting for a barista. You got the last hanja wrong though."

"Well, there are _only_ 24 hanja that can be used for Ha on the official list," she replied, without looking up. "Same number for Yong, though." She grinned, twinkling just a little bit. "Aren't you impressed I worked out the right hanja for that?"

"Yes," he replied stupidly. "How did you-"

"I've been working my way through the combinations for all of the regular customers." She shrugged and grabbed another cup. "Helps me practice. I suppose this is my chance to get yours down once and for all. Gu and Yong are correct, what's the right hanja for Ha in your name?"

Yong Ha plucked the cup out of her hand and wrote it for her before handing it back. She read it and her eyebrows went up. "Really?"

He shrugged. "My mother was proud. Is proud," he corrected.

"I suppose you'd have to be," she said, and slid the cup over toward the espresso machine. "That's 6,500 won."

"I'm kind of surprised I never noticed that the hanja were wrong before," he said, digging in his shoulder bag for his wallet.

Her face stayed perfectly, serenely, carefully blank. "Most people don't."

"I'm not most people." He flourished 7,000 won in her direction. "I'm Gu Yong Ha."

"Yes," she said, taking it from him with two hands. "You said."  


 

Jae Shin chewed his lower lip like he always did when he was thinking too hard about something he hated. For such a small bakery they somehow managed to spend almost as much as they brought in. Was that possible? It didn't seem possible. Sure, Yong Ha was paid probably more than he was worth and sure, they'd only been open a couple of months and didn't have "regular clientele" so much as simply "curious bystanders" but... but still.

He shuffled some of the papers on the table in front of him in a misguided and ultimately futile attempt at changing their version of financial reality, and uncovered a simple white sheet with round, delicate handwriting in black ink. The Now Hiring sign Yong Ha had given him last week. He looked at it. Thought hard about whether he should just cover it up again. Picked it up anyway.

Jae Shin rubbed his face. Maybe hiring someone would be a good idea? It would give him a little bit of a break and act as a buffer between him and Yong Ha. Not that a buffer was strictly necessary, of course. He was a grown up. They were both grown ups. Just... with all the cake, and Yong Ha's insistence that he study...

His laptop dinged suddenly and unexpectedly at his elbow, and he absolutely did not jump.

 

* * *

**From: Gu Yong Ha [forestforthetrees@dareun.kr]**  
**To: Moon Jae Shin [crazy_bastard@dareun.kr]**  
**Date: September 16**  
**Subject: Hire someone. I'm serious.**

How long must I do this alone?  
You're working me down to the bone  
The ovens are hot  
My efforts, for naught  
I'd have left long ago if I'd known.

* * *

**From: Moon Jae Shin [crazy_bastard@dareun.kr]**  
**To: Gu Yong Ha [forestforthetrees@dareun.kr]**  
**Date: September 16**  
**Subject: Re: Hire someone. I'm serious.**

So what is it that you would wish to gain  
That I could not provide just on my own?  
Though it may cause some momentary strain  
Tug at my heels and bend my aching bones -

I feel it is my duty to protect  
The unsuspecting public from your face.  
I'm told it has a startling effect  
Provoking those around you to give chase.

Regardless of these tales, I've made my choice:  
The banner has been placed without these walls.  
He who would take this job should raise his voice  
And hope to god that you won't take his balls.

Be gentle with whoever I might hire;  
I don't think you would want to draw my ire.

* * *

 

"Is this a motherfucking sonnet?"

"Just the normal kind," Jae Shin said, not looking up from the computer screen. He turned his espresso cup on its saucer before picking it up by the handle and sipping at it. "We need to hire someone to make coffee. Is it possible to burn coffee? Because I think I burned this coffee."

Yong Ha leaned over him, stretching his arms out to place a small tray delicately on the table top in front of him. Jae Shin made a face and twisted to the side a little so that Yong Ha's arms wouldn't smash into his face. "Of course it's possible to burn coffee," he said, pulling out the chair from the other side of the table and swinging his leg over the seat before sitting down."Some chains burn their coffee as kind of a company signature, seems like." He glanced over at Jae Shin's almost empty espresso cup. "It would probably help if you made it con panna, as well. But look, about this sonnet -"

"Con panna?"

Yong Ha's expression froze. "You have no business running a bakery."

"Just tell me what con panna means."

Yong Ha gave him a look, smile fixed on his face with conscious effort. "Espresso con panna," he said slowly, enunciating each syllable. "It's Italian. Just means 'espresso with cream' but it's whipped cream, specifically. It won't save a burned shot but it might take the edge off of it. Plus you'll have a snowball's chance in hell of not stripping your stomach lining."

"I don't really like whipped cream," Jae Shin mumbled, tipping the demitasse cup and peering into it. "It's too sweet."

"I make it fresh here and don't add too much sugar. Wellll," Yong Ha said, inclining his head as if admitting to a technically legal crime, "'too much' is really a subjective qualifier to be honest. But try it. You might like it, and then you'll be well on your way to Not Having Ulcers Anymore Land."

"I don't have ulcers now."

"Give it time," Yong Ha said. He pushed the tray across the table toward Jae Shin. "I know as well as anyone that you don't like cake, but just think of this as your homework. All right? A bite of each. Added bonus: you can try my whipped cream."

Jae Shin paused. Looked up over his laptop screen to look Yong Ha in the eye. (Yong Ha braced himself - though for what, he couldn't say; something about the slack expression on Jae Shin's face made him feel worried, down deep in his gut. It reminded him of the way Jae Shin's face looked when his father yelled, like his body was present but his mind had drifted off somewhere else.) "What are they?" he said after a second.

"Dark chocolate espresso souffle cupcake with whipped cream, génoise layered with sour cherry compote and chocolate mousse, and opera cake - which, of course, needs no introduction," Yong Ha rattled off, and grinned. "It's filled with your rage, anger, and all my love."

"I don't have any rage," Jae Shin said, prodding one of the cake slices gingerly, a cloudy expression on his face. Yong Ha shot him a look so skeptical it was almost tangible, and Jae Shin recoiled involuntarily. "What?"

"You? No rage?" Yong Ha sat back in his chair and threw one arm over the back, shaking his head. "You're 75% rage, 20% procrastination, and 10% unexpected poetry."

"That's 105%."

"So write me a sonnet about how I'm bad at math," Yong Ha snapped. "I didn't know you could write sonnets. Kind of a romantic form, don't you think?"

"They're not hard. And they're not that romantic - or they don't have to be, at any rate."

"Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?" Yong Ha said, throwing one arm out wide, palm to the heavens, the other hand clasped to his breast. "Thou art more lovely and more temp-"

"They don't have to be, I said."

Yong Ha leaned over the table and beckoned coyly with one hand. Jae Shin found himself leaning forward despite himself, moving the laptop out of the way. "That sonnet," Yong Ha whispered conspiratorially. "It's about two dudes."

"I know," Jae Shin whispered back.

Yong Ha's brow furrowed and he pulled back. "What?"

"We both took that class, remember? Professor Moore, English Poetry 302. I still don't know what a Civil Engineering major was doing in that classroom."

Following Jae Shin, of course, but Yong Ha would never admit it out loud. "Some of us are many splendoured things. I am large. I contain multitudes."

"I'll be sure to tell Walt Whitman you said so. And you're not large, you're a bundle of kindling wrapped up in a chef coat and sixteen silk scarves." Jae Shin glanced up. "Opening is in 20. Is everything plated?"

"Of course everything is plated," Yong Ha grumbled, leaning back in his chair and adjusting the cuffs of his chef coat with quick, snapped movements. "You think I'd be out here trading gay love poetry if I hadn't finished my chores?"

"Yes," Jae Shin said, after not even a moment of thought. "That's exactly what I think."

"I guess you still have me pegged, Shin," Yong Ha said. Paused. Grinned. "Maybe later. Listen, are you going to try the cake of your own free will or do I have to -"

He waved a hand irritably, interrupting Yong Ha before he could finish. "I'll try it, I'll try it. What am I supposed to be learning here?"

"Flavor notes. Tell me what each of them taste like."

Jae Shin swallowed. Grit his teeth. Eschewed the fork Yong Ha placed delicately on one side of the tray and picked up the first confection with his bare hand, diligently ignoring Yong Ha's wince.

"Well?"

"It tastes sweet."

Yong Ha deflated a little. "That's it?" Jae Shin cocked an eyebrow and squished the remains of the cupcake back down on its plate without ceremony, tongue curling out to catch a fleck of whipped cream at the corner of his mouth. "Okay, okay. Try the next one, it's a little more obvious."

Jae Shin sighed and did as he was told. "It just tastes sweet. Look, I like my booze and meat, all right?"

"You're hopeless. Why did you even open a bakery, anyway?"

Maybe he imagined it, but it felt like a sudden distance yawned between them. Jae Shin set the second piece of cake down on the plate and looked distractedly at the third, that far away expression getting worse, his skin pale, his eyes dark. "I need to figure something out," was all he said, without looking up from the third and final piece. "Do I have to -?"

Yong Ha sighed and waved a hand. "It's not like you'll get anything out of it. Don't worry about the third one. Don't you need to start opening up anyway?"

Jae Shin stood up quickly, his chair shrieking on the tiles. He reached into his pocket and tossed a bundle of keys to Yong Ha without looking, already turning to walk away. "I have to - I need - could you open up? I'll be just a, it'll just be a few minutes. Just unlock the front door and flip the sign when the display case is set up, I'll do the rest when - I'll just be a few minutes. Okay? Okay?" And he was gone, leaving Yong Ha with the keys in his hand, mouth open as if to speak.

"Okay," Yong Ha said, to the empty space where Jae Shin had been.  


 

Everything came back up - the souffle, the génoise, the burned black coffee.

Jae Shin flushed the toilet and staggered to his feet. Turned on the tap. Splashed water on his face. Convinced himself he was okay.  


 

The girl on the other side of the counter snapped her gum. Shifted her weight onto one hip. Raised her eyebrows. "Well?"

Gu Yong Ha stared at her. "Where's the normal... who are you? Doesn't someone else work this shift?"

She shrugged irritably. "Yoon Hee? Yeah." A sigh, so put-upon as to very nearly inspire sympathy. "Asked to switch to a different shift couple days ago, said she suddenly had some kind of 'ongoing engagement' in the morning -" this was said with finger quotes dropped sarcastically into place with perfect precision "- so they fired her. Now I have to work earlier. Pleased as punch about that, let me tell you. What do you want?"

"Triple-shot caramel mocha, extra whip," Yong Ha said, still recovering. "And sprinkles."

After he had stepped outside he glanced down at his cup. She had written his name in hangeul, and still somehow managed to misspell it.  


 

Gu Yong Ha took a drink of his coffee and made a face. The new barista's coffee was almost as bad as her handwriting, if such a thing were possible, but he choked it down anyway. He set the cup down on top of the glass display case and went back to arranging plates.

"You're getting louder, you know," he said suddenly, halfway into the case. "I've learned."

"Didn't want to give you a heart attack," came Moon Jae Shin's voice somewhere behind and above him. "Are you done yet? I unlocked the front door five minutes ago."

"Give me a minute, the apple galette is being an asshole." He turned the plate about three inches to the left and glared at it, daring it not to look delicious. "Does this look all right?"

Jae Shin dropped into a squat next to him and peered into the case, mouth twisting doubtfully. "I don't know. It looks like a bunch of cake."

"The shine is important. Makes all the difference between 'appetizing' and 'possibly plastic.'" He glanced sideways at Jae Shin. "So?"

Jae Shin shrugged. "None of it looks particularly appetizing."

"You're no help at all. Move, I can't stand up when you're so close." Jae Shin stood up, took a step back, and Yong Ha levered himself to his feet with his right hand, left arm held tight against his stomach. "Flip on the display lights, will you? I need to wash my hands."

"What's wrong with your arm?"

Yong Ha looked down at himself. "My what?"

Jae Shin reached out and brushed the fabric of Yong Ha's left sleeve. "Your arm. You're favoring it. Did you sleep on it wrong?"

"You do know I was stationed in an active war zone, right?" He stood on his tiptoes, reached up with his right hand (left arm still cradled against his ribs), and pulled down the curved glass of the display case's front window, letting the soft-close hinges hiss closed. "Shit happens. You should have seen me two years ago, before physical therapy - it was hilarious."

Jae Shin lurched forward a step, blood draining from his face. "Wait, so -"

At the front of the bakery the door opened, and the ancient brass bell clonked. "You need to get that fixed," Yong Ha said, brushing the dust off of his hands and turning to go back into the kitchen. "I'll let you take care of this, I still have two trays of clafoutis to finish up."

And he was gone, his fingerprints still on the glass of the display case, his unfortunate coffee still cooling on the counter. Jae Shin opened his mouth to call after him - but immediately closed it again, thinking better of it. He turned to face the foyer of the entry. "How can I -"

Yong Ha's handwritten Now Hiring sign fluttered in his face for a second before it dropped again. The kid holding it looked nervous (beyond nervous) but determined - short black hair cut messy, baggy jeans, a too-big t-shirt covered with a sleeveless hooded sweatshirt. He screwed up his mouth. "The sign says you're hiring," he said.

Jae Shin blinked. "We are," he said. "What's your name?"

"Kim Yoon... Kim Yoon Shik," the kid stuttered, and shuffled his feet. "I, uh... I need a job."


	5. Pay Attention

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas! I got all of you Kim Yoon Shik's excessively awkward job interview and more information about egg separation than anyone really needs.

"Okay, one more time. Name?"

"Kim Yoon Shik," the kid said, knees bouncing nervously under the table.

Jae Shin gave Yoon Shik's knees a pointed look and opened a new text file on his laptop. "Any experience working in bakeries? Coffee shops?"

"Four years at a Twosome Place in Jongno," the kid replied quickly, putting his hands on his knees to stop them from jiggling. "I was Barista Of The Month fourteen times and was promoted to shift supervisor within my first 18 months."

"Reason for leaving?"

He swallowed and went pale. "Uh... terminated."

Jae Shin's eyebrows went up and he fixed the kid with a glare. "Terminated? Have a story behind that?"

"New manager." Yoon Shik grimaced. "I needed to switch shifts and they fired me."

"I've heard worse," Jae Shin said after a second. "Whatever. Our pastry chef was fired from his last job too and he's been working out all right." He made a few notes. "We're open from 12:00pm to 2:00am, Tuesday through Sunday. Pastry chef gets in at 8:00 and I close up. Is that going to be a problem for you?"

"N-no." Yoon Shik bit his lip, and Jae Shin definitely (definitely) didn't notice. "That's perfect for me actually. I have a... an ongoing engagement, weekday mornings at 8 to 10:30. I could be here by 11:30 to open."

Jae Shin looked at him a little bit closer, narrowing his eyes. "How old are you? Have you gone into the army yet?"

"I'm twenty-three."

"And the army?"

Yoon Shik blinked twice, quickly. "I... uh, I haven't gotten the letter."

Jae Shin sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. Fired from his last job and might be called up any day. Was this too big of a risk? Ah, fuck it. "Okay, fine. Give me your registration number and let's move to the next part of the interview."

Yoon Shik leaned forward and started rattling off numbers. "840805-23712 -"

"Hey, hey," Jae Shin barked, slamming the backspace key a few times. "Pay attention, will you? It should be 13. 13, not 23. You're a man. 840805-13... what's the rest?"

The kid stared at him for two, three seconds, eyes huge. "1371292," he mumbled. "Sorry."

Jae Shin hit Save and shut the laptop. "Just come with me. You said you were barista of the month, what - twelve times?"

The kid stood up. "Fourteen."

"So here's your chance to prove it."

The espresso machine at the front of the bakery was a beast, all chrome and black plastic and intimidating dials. Jae Shin had worked out how to make a bad espresso shot at least, but the rest of it was a mystery - so when Yoon Shik stepped up to it and started up the hopper, fired up the espresso machine, checked the pressure like an old hand, he was (perhaps) slightly more impressed than he would care to admit.

"Where are the rags?"

Jae Shin blinked. "Sorry?"

Yoon Shik leaned over and looked under the machine. "Rags? And mixing spoons. Milk pitchers. You've got a mini-fridge but it's not in a good place - it needs to be within... maybe half a meter? of the right side of the machine if you're going to get any efficiency out of this set up. Any chance that can be moved?" He levered the lid off of the hopper, grabbed a bean out of it, and popped it in his mouth before promptly spitting it out again into his palm, pulling a terrible face. "And don't buy these beans ever again. I know some good suppliers I'd recommend, I can give you their names and numbers if you want."

"Um."

"I mean, I can try making a cup of coffee if you'd like," Yoon Shik continued, spinning the dial for the steam wand and letting it hiss out some of the pressure, "but it's not going to be good even with me on the machine, with beans like these. Good machine, though," he added approvingly, and spun the dial back.

Jae Shin felt a little like he'd just woken up near the end of a very long and very complicated lecture on something mysterious, like maybe quantum physics. "Know anything about cake? Pastries?"

Yoon Shik made a face - a cross between uncertainty and embarrassment. "Just the basics," he conceded, wobbling a hand. "Twosome Place is a chain so we got everything frozen from the warehouse. I can't do much baking, but I know a little and I learn fast."

"We have a pastry chef for the actual baking," Jae Shin said, staring at the mini-fridge. He could have that moved, right? Shouldn't be too much of a problem. Somewhere in the bowels of his email archives he still had the phone number for the sub-contractor he'd hired to overhaul this place. "You'd just need to know the names and be familiar with ingredients, flavor notes -" he was embarrassingly proud of himself for remembering the phrase "flavor notes" from his conversation with Yong Ha last week "- that sort of thing. Enough to make recommendations and steer people away from things they're allergic to." He ran a hand over the back of his neck. "You like cake?"

The kid blinked, dropping his hand from the espresso machine. "Is there anyone who doesn't like cake?"

"Yes." Christ. Not this again. "You might have to eat a lot of it, so it never hurts to check."

"I think I'll survive."

Jae Shin crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the counter. Yoon Shik was pretty, with thin hands like a girl's, slim waist, baggy clothes betraying a curve in the hip that suggested a childhood spent playing soccer, maybe. Fix his hair, put him in a clean-cut uniform, and he could probably have the shop packed with women within a couple of weeks. (Jae Shin would stay in the back during peak hours. It would be good for business.)

"Okay, one last test," Jae Shin sighed, beckoning with a hand and turning toward the kitchen. "You pass this one, you're in. But don't get too excited -" he pushed open the swinging door and nodded with his head in the direction of the kitchen "- this is the hardest one. Hey," he called out through the door. "Some fresh meat for you."

Gu Yong Ha looked up, both hands buried almost elbow-deep in a transparent bucket filled with egg whites and very few yolks. A metal bowl next to it was nearly full of just yolks. His eyebrows were together and his eyes narrowed in an expression of irritable focus. "What?"

Jae Shin stared at the bucket with a horrified look on his face, caught off guard and unawares. "Jesus Christ. What are you doing?"

Yong Ha looked down at his hands. "Separating eggs. What, you think meringue makes itself?" He blew a strand of hair out of his face. "What do you want? Spit it out quick - I'm almost done and my hands are about to freeze off."

"An applicant I need to put by you," Jae Shin said, gesturing over his thumb over his shoulder, not looking away from the bucket. "Do you really do that by hand?"

"It's cheaper than buying them pre-separated and quicker than using those little fiddly egg separator doohickies," Yong Ha snapped back. "Could you lay off the eggs for a second?" He looked past Jae Shin through the door. "Who are you?"

Kim Yoon Shik took a quick step forward. "I'm -" And froze, hand halfway up in a wave.

Jae Shin looked down at him. Made a face, put a hand on his shoulder, and pushed him gently one more step into the kitchen. "Kim Yoon Shik," he said. "Knows his way around an espresso machine. You'll be in charge of him more than I will since he'll be the one on the case most of the time, so the hire's up to you."

"God, just give me a second." Yong Ha whisked his hands through the egg goop and pulled out three, four, five yolks in quick succession, plopping them into the metal bowl with their brothers. He tipped up the bucket and glared into it before nodding and wiping his hands on the white apron he was wearing. "Let me wash my hands at least."

"I thought you were working on clafoutis."

"Don't pretend you know what clafoutis is, jerk."

Yoon Shik's eyes went back and forth between them. "Um, are you two...?"

"What?" Jae Shin and Yong Ha said in unison, both turning on the kid before pausing and glaring at each other.

"Don't pay any attention to him," Yong Ha said, drying his hands on a paper towel. "He's an asshole, and he doesn't know anything about cake."

"Excuse me," Jae Shin said, "I'm standing right here."

"Well done. Keep it up." Yong Ha grinned and threw the kid a wink. "So Kim Yoon Shik, then? I'm Gu Yong Ha, pastry chef extraordinaire. And Jae Shin thinks you can make a cup of coffee?"

"Not with the beans you've got in the hopper," Yoon Shik stuttered out. "I mean, I can make something, but it wouldn't really be coffee."

"That's fair." He paused. Adjusted his glasses. "Have we met before? You look really familiar."

The kid went pale. "Probably not. I don't really, uh, I don't really go out much."

Yong Ha narrowed his eyes. "I'm sure." A broad smile spread across his face. "Yeah, he passes. Give him a haircut and some better clothes and he'll do fine."

"You hear that? Go home, get a haircut, be here by 11:30 tomorrow morning." Jae Shin opened the swinging door by leaning on it and riding the momentum out into the main bakery. "We'll figure out some kind of uniform for you in the next week or so, but for the time being just wear black pants and a white button-up shirt."

After the kid was gone Jae Shin still stood at the display case, arms crossed, staring mindlessly at the door where he'd last seen Yoon Shik. He felt like he'd missed something important, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it, and it was starting to bug him.

Something absolutely freezing touched his arm and he flinched so hard he almost sprained something.

"Seriously?" Yong Ha said, coming up beside him to lean down over the display case, elbows on the glass. "Were you that deep in thought? Making your first hire was a more powerful philosophical experience than you were expecting?"

"What did you touch me with?" Jae Shin gasped, holding his arm.

Yong Ha held up a hand and waggled his fingers by way of illustration. "I told you my hands were about to freeze off. Separating eggs is no joke. My hands won't warm up for hours, just watch."

"That sounds... kind of terrible."

"Eh." Yong Ha gave a lopsided shrug, palms open wide. "The sacrifices I'll make for a good meringue, right? But seriously, what's got you all turned upside down?"

Jae Shin opened his mouth. Closed it again. "Nothing," he said, because he didn't have anything better to say. He couldn't figure out what it was that had him twisted up in his head.

"You too, huh?" Yong Ha twinkled in that obnoxious way he had, the kind of look that said I'm About To Be Rude And There's Nothing You Can Do To Stop Me. "Are you strangely attracted to him?"

"Excuse me?"

He pushed off from the glass and stretched his arms out in front of him, slowly working his wrists around to get the blood flowing again. "Kim Yoon Shik. Awfully pretty, wasn't he?" He blinked innocently. "What, you don't think so?"

Jae Shin hissed in a breath as if to speak, but just clenched his jaw shut. He had been pretty, god damn it, and he couldn't figure out why, but hell if he was going to admit that to Yong Ha of all people. The asshole had started to... the only term for it was baiting, really - maybe trying to catch him in the act of being kinda gay. What, so he could vanish again with no warning? "About as pretty as you," he said instead. "So not very."

"Oh, thanks. I love you too." Yong Ha, for his part, wasn't thinking about Jae Shin at all. He was thinking about the week before. The barista with the impressive hanja. The conversation that morning, the revelation of that self-same barista's termination... and how Kim Yoon Shik had gone white as a sheet when he lay eyes on Gu Yong Ha. The gears in his head were starting to spin for the first time in months, years maybe, and suddenly he saw fun on the horizon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The registration number and surrounding conversation is ripped directly out of episode 2 of Coffee Prince, if you didn't notice.


	6. I Solemnly Swear I Am Up To No Good

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year! This is the chapter where everybody figures out that I used to work in a bakery.

Gu Yong Ha hissed a long breath through his teeth, eyes narrowed, hands ready. There weren't very many things he wasn't good at: abstaining, perhaps; being bored, certainly; waiting too long, absolutely. He was very good at keeping secrets. At getting what he wanted (usually). At being just obnoxious enough to be noticeable while still charming enough to stay safe.

Stoves, though. Stoves were a problem.

The bubbles trembled and began lifting off the bottom of the pot. Yong Ha sucked in a quick breath, snatched up the sleeve of paper he'd tucked to the side, and dumped the flour into the pot in one smooth movement before finally sliding the pot off the burner.

Yong Ha knew for a fact that watched pots did indeed boil, because it was the only way he'd learned not to ruin the choux.

"I thought you didn't like stoves."

"I don't," Yong Ha said, folding the water into the flour with a wooden spoon. He didn't turn to look behind him. He didn't have to. "I thought you were supposed to be working in the front today. This is the kitchen, not your office."

Jae Shin rested his chin on his hand, watching Yong Ha's back as he worked. His laptop was open in front of him, set up on the butcher block kitchen island, spreadsheets and calendars half filled out (but neglected) on the screen. He'd dragged a chair in from the front but it was just a little too short for the counter, so he sat at his laptop like a kid at the grown-up's table.

"I don't have an office," he said. "And the front is too busy." He couldn't help but wonder if Yong Ha had gotten even skinnier in the three-something years they hadn't seen each other - he'd always been kind of skinny, but in his chef coat and long waist apron tied tight at the base of his ribs Jae Shin could see his shoulder blades move, could see the muscles work in his shoulders as he turned the contents of the pot. Had he always been that skinny?

"You mean it's too busy with women." Now Yong Ha looked over his shoulder. His face was caught in that in-between stage where he was trying hard not to grin but not quite succeeding, and Jae Shin jerked back in his chair as if caught doing something wrong. "Don't think you can fool me."

"Women are fine."

"Like you'd know. Is Kim Yoon Shik just alone out there?"

"He's fine," Jae Shin said defensively. "It's not that busy."

"It's pretty busy. Come here," Yong Ha added, turning back to the pot. "If you're going to take up space at least be useful."

"This is my bakery, you know," Jae Shin said irritably, but he was standing up anyway, pushing the chair back over the tiles, moving around the island. "The whole building is technically my office. What do you need?"

Yong Ha blew a strand of hair out of his face and nodded toward the big stand mixer a few feet away. "Pull up the paddle. No, not like - just, okay, look, there's a lever on the - fine, great, you got it. Move over, this is hot." He dumped the contents of the pot into the bowl of the stand mixer. Tossed the pot into the big sink with a clang. Set the pot holders down on the counter top and wiped the sweat from his forehead with one arm. "Perfect," he said, and grinned at Jae Shin. "Just as though it were choreographed. Grab me the eggs, would you?"

"The eggs?" The words were more of an echo than a question.

"Little white things," Yong Ha said, making a round shape with his hands. "Sometimes brown, depending on where you shop. Sorta round. Eggs. Oh," he said quickly, raising one hand just as Jae Shin turned away toward the refrigerator.

"What?"

"Egg whites, too." He grinned wide and flapped a hand to goad Jae Shin on. "Let me know if you need help. I'll watch."

"Ha ha ha," Jae Shin said humorlessly, pulling open the refrigerator. "Remind me again why I let you in here?"

"Because I'm a genius." Yong Ha took off his glasses, found a clean part of his apron, and attempted to clean the smatters of butter and flour from the lenses. "And you love me."

"Hm." Jae Shin made a face at the tub of egg whites. Once or twice a week Yong Ha stood in the kitchen and separated somewhere between two and three dozen eggs, and almost invariably it was during the times when Jae Shin needed to be in the back for some reason. He was beginning to suspect that Yong Ha timed it like that because he knew how gross Jae Shin found the activity, but he hadn't gathered enough evidence to really feel properly indignant so instead he just bit his tongue and bided his time. "You're running low on whites."

"I know. It'll be okay, I only need a cup or so." His lenses were proving difficult - one particularly stubborn blob of something (some kind of dough, he hoped) was caught between the frame and the lens and he couldn't see well enough without his glasses to get rid of it entirely. Did that count as irony, that he needed his glasses in order to clean his glasses? Well, who cared - whatever it was, it was profoundly offensive and he didn't approve. "Hurry up, I need your help with something else."

Jae Shin stood up carefully, egg carton stacked precariously on top of the tub of whites. He kneed the refrigerator door closed, turning slowly, carefully -

"By all means, take your time," Yong Ha said, still working on his glasses. "Pastry isn't delicate or anything."

\- and nearly dropped the eggs. "What are you doing?" he said, staring at the glasses in Yong Ha's hand. (What was it? Was it that he couldn't pretend that he didn't remember him when his glasses were off, when suddenly he looked just like that kid he used to know?)

"I'm trying to make a choux," Yong Ha said, "but my boss is holding the damn eggs hostage. Will you please get over here?"

It took a few tries, but Jae Shin found his way across the kitchen without dropping anything. "I'm not your boss."

"Then who signs my checks every month?" Yong Ha hooked his glasses over the neck of his chef coat and reached out for the eggs. "Is it a goblin? A ghost, maybe?" He hesitated, hand only inches away from the tub of whites. "It's the ghost one, isn't it. Your father really did kill you."

"Just make the damn pastry."

Yong Ha glanced over Jae Shin's shoulder at the massive clock on the opposite wall, squinting to bring the hands into focus. "Nah, needs to cool for another minute, maybe a minute and a half. Mind just putting the eggs down over here? I need you to do something for me."

"What?" This came out as a bark, and Jae Shin was only a little bit ashamed. "What else do you need me to do for you?"

"Don't give me that. This task, at least, is something I actually can't do without you -" Yong Ha hooked a finger through the temple of his glasses (still hanging from the neck of his coat) and pulled them out with a swooping flourish. "- silly as it may sound, I can't see well enough to clean these damn things."

A moment of hesitation, so brief as to be nearly nonexistent, before Jae Shin's hand came up of its own accord and opened, palm up. He opened his mouth to say something rude but instead... instead Yong Ha smiled, and set the glasses delicately into his hand. He didn't close his fingers over Yong Ha's. He didn't touch his skin, didn't grab his wrist. (He didn't. He couldn't.)

"There's something on the side, some dried cake batter or something." Yong Ha turned back toward the stand mixer and grabbed a glazed ceramic bowl from a shelf over his head with his right hand, flipping open the carton of eggs with his left. "Do you see it?"

"I see it," Jae Shin lied, not looking at the glasses. He was watching the way Yong Ha moved, all loose and fluid but with a funny knot at his left shoulder anchoring everything down, keeping his reach short and his muscles tight. "Just give me a second, all right?"

"You can have at least twenty." A crack, and the contents of one egg splashed into the bowl. "Wait, scratch that - shoot. I'm stupid." Yong Ha looked over his shoulder at Jae Shin, the expression on his face the very image of contrition. "Sooo either you need to clean those fast or I'm gonna need you to check this for egg shell fragments." He held up the bowl.

"I hate raw eggs."

"I know," Yong Ha said, "but nothing's worse than egg shell in a cream puff. Trust me. So it's that, or -"

Jae Shin grimaced. "Just wait five seconds, will you?"

He didn't want to give the glasses back but there was no good reason for it, so he just bent over the lenses and hated every second of it. A moment of work had them clean but he pretended to work at them for just a little longer before clearing his throat, straightening up, giving them one last quick huff and polish before reluctantly holding them out again.

"Not so hard, was it?" Yong Ha unfolded the temples and slid the thick black frames back onto his face, turning his head back and forth to check for smudges. "You're a pro, boss."

"Don't call me boss."

"Yeah, yeah." The bowl of egg was inspected for a second before being dumped unceremoniously into the bowl of the mixer. Yong Ha turned the dial exactly one click and reached for another egg as the mixer hummed to life. "I'm beginning to get this weird sneaking suspicion that you don't like it."

"Wow, where could that be coming from?" Jae Shin turned, arms folded over his chest, but didn't make the full 180 - instead he paused halfway, still watching Yong Ha work. He still looked almost like himself now, even in his glasses, and Jae Shin wasn't sure what to do with that. He'd been relying on that one small thing to keep up, to stay the same - something to keep him from really realizing who it was giving him shit like he always did, like he always had. "Why don't you just call me hyung any more?" _(Am I that embarrassing to you?)_

Yong Ha's hand froze for just half a second, egg in palm, before finishing the movement and cracking the shell on the edge of the ceramic bowl. "I have four older brothers," he said mildly, not looking up. "I'd start getting confused."

Nothing to say to that, so Jae Shin didn't try; just twisted his mouth and went back to his laptop.

"You're going to need to clear out," Yong ha called over his shoulder. "In about ten minutes I need every flat surface in the kitchen for profiterole prep. We ran out of profiteroles yesterday and Yoon Shik almost got set on fire by three angry ajumma."

Jae Shin stopped, two steps short of the laptop. "What the hell is a profiterole?"

Yong Ha shook an egg at him. "Now I know you're fucking with me. We went over profiteroles like... three days ago, I swear to god."

"Two days."

"You're such an asshole."

Jae Shin grinned, but then paused. Glanced over his shoulder at the door to the front. "Wait, you mean every flat surface?"

"Yes," Yong Ha said. He didn't turn around, but he didn't need to; Jae Shin could hear the curling grin in his words. "And it's your worst nightmare out there: a bunch of girls."

"That's not my worst nightmare." Jae Shin slowly closed the lid on his laptop, staring at the door out into the main part of the bakery.

"If you run," Yong Ha said, "you might not have to actually talk to anyone."

Laptop held tight to his chest, back straight, jaw clenched, Jae Shin faced the door. Once more, into the breach.

Yong Ha turned, one hand in the air. "Wait, could you -" But Jae Shin was gone.

He sighed and rolled his eyes. Glanced down at the choux, churning slowly in the stand mixer. Did some quick calculations. Swore quietly to himself, silently promised the choux he wouldn't be gone more than three minutes, and made a mad dash for the door.

  
The door swung open and the sound of conversation rolled over Jae Shin like a wave, trying to pull him under, trying to drown him, and he closed his eyes tight for a second. It was loud, the place packed - when he'd hired Kim Yoon Shik a few weeks ago he'd figured the kid might draw in some admirers but this... this was ridiculous. Almost every voice in the building belonged to a woman, and already he could feel his diaphragm tightening. Damn. Damn. Damn.

"You need to leave."

It was Yoon Shik's voice, and it cut through the din like a knife, the words sharp-edged and quietly furious. Jae Shin opened his eyes.

Yoon Shik was standing behind the case, hands clenched into fists at his sides, his black barista's apron splashed with steamed milk and flecks of what was probably (hopefully) matcha. His chin was angled upward defiantly, his back was straight and stiff as an iron bar, and his eyes -

He wasn't looking at Jae Shin. He hadn't noticed Jae Shin at all. The focus of his anger was the man on the other side of the case, tall and serious looking with the most obnoxious expression on his face Jae Shin had ever seen. He leaned forward, just a little, placing his hand on the top of the case. "Look, if you'd just listen to me for one -"

"I'm not going to listen to you at all," Yoon Shik replied tersely. "Either buy something or just go home."

The man glanced at the espresso machine. "I don't drink coffee."

"I know. So are you going to go home?"

"We both know I can't leave without -"

"Can I help you?"

Jae Shin set his laptop down on top of the display case next to Yoon Shik's elbow. The man on the other side looked at him. Looked at the laptop. Looked at Yoon Shik before looking up at Jae Shin again. "Who...?"

"Um," Kim Yoon Shik said, going pale.

"Moon Jae Shin," Jae Shin said. "The owner. I don't believe I've had the pleasure."

"Lee Seon Joon," the man said, extending a hand. Jae Shin looked at it for several seconds before Lee Seon Joon awkwardly returned his hand to his side. "I'm one of Kim Yoon -" Yoon Shik cleared his throat loudly "- um, one of Kim Yoon Shik's classmates."

Jae Shin glanced down at Yoon Shik. "You didn't say you were still in university."

"I'm not," Yoon Shik said, throwing Lee Seon Joon the dirtiest look Jae Shin had personally witnessed since the last time his father had come home late to find his mother waiting in the living room. "I was, but I'm not now."

"We're in the law program," Seon Joon said. "At Sungkyunkwan."

"You're in the law program," Yoon Shik said. "I work at this bakery. Which is great," he added quickly, not making eye contact with Jae Shin.

"Is there some kind of problem?" Jae Shin adjusted his weight from one hip to the other and crossed his arms. "Are former students of the Sungkyunkwan law program not permitted to hold jobs?"

"No, that's not -"

"No? In that case, there's a queue," Jae Shin said, nodding at the growing number of people stacked up behind Lee Seon Joon. "If you haven't yet decided what you'd like to order please kindly stand to the side so that other customers can have a chance to make their decisions."

Seon Joon opened his mouth, but closed it again at the look on Yoon Shik's face. "You don't have to worry," he said to Yoon Shik. "That's not why I'm here. I'll talk to you later, all right?"

When he was gone, Jae Shin grabbed Yoon Shik's elbow. "You okay? I can ban him if I need to."

"No," Yoon Shik said quickly, turning his face away. His voice was tight, thick, like he was about to cry. "He's not... he's a friend of mine. He's just worried about me but he comes from money and doesn't understand why somebody would have to -" Yoon Shik stopped short. Looked down at Jae Shin's hand on his arm, a look of dismay passing over his face. "I mean, not that coming from money would -"

"It's fine, I know what you meant," Jae Shin interrupted. "You're not in trouble. Coming from money and having empathy aren't mutually exclusive in all cases. Why did you leave the law program?" He stopped short and looked over his shoulder at the line of people. And fuck, of course - Jae Shin hadn't seen him behind Seon Joon, but there he was. The cake pervert, eyeballing him irritably. "Ah. Let's actually talk about that later." He rolled up his sleeves. Clenched his jaw. "You punk. I hired you so I wouldn't have to work the front."

Yoon Shik blinked and opened his mouth - "What?" - but stumbled quickly out of the way, propelled by Jae Shin's elbow.

"You man the espresso machine," he said. "I'll take care of orders. Speaking of, how can I help you?"

The cake pervert (maybe it was rude that Jae Shin had named him this in the back of his head, but he didn't particularly care how rude it was) heaved a long-suffering sigh. "Are you sure you're done? With whatever this is?"

"With-?"

"This isn't a drama," he said shortly. "Some of us have things to do. Two profiteroles. No, four. Four profiteroles."

Jae Shin looked down at the case. Looked over his shoulder at the tinted window looking into the kitchen. Hissed a tight breath through his teeth. "Don't you dare," he said to Kim Yoon Shik, standing ready at the steam wand, "tell that bastard back there that he was right about the profiteroles."

  
"What was that all about?" Yong Ha said, not looking up.

The counter top was full end to end with baking sheets, some even still hot and steaming from the ovens, each one dotted with puffs of fresh-baked choux. Yong Ha had a small knife in one hand and was methodically going down the lines of pastry, slicing tiny slits in their sides to let the steam out. His glasses were starting to fog up but he didn't seem to notice.

Jae Shin paused in the doorway for a second (just long enough for the swinging door to come back around and bonk him on the hip) and blinked. "What? What was what about?"

This got him a look, somewhere between irritation and amusement. "Come on now. I went out after you to ask you to order more confectioner's sugar and you were about to come to blows with Kim Yoon Shik's ex-boyfriend."

"His what?"

Yong Ha stared at him for a second before shaking his head and waving a hand dismissively. "It's a joke. I'm joking. Don't worry, I'm not privy to anyone's scandalous gay secrets." Okay, so that wasn't strictly true, but any reasonable person would expect you to be privy to your own secrets. Otherwise they wouldn't be secrets, they'd just be a mystery. "What was that about?"

Jae Shin threw a hand in the air. "I don't know. Something about a law program that Kim Yoon Shik isn't in any more."

"A law program."

"Yeah. At Sungkyunkwan."

"You know, you think you're giving me more information," Yong Ha said, "but I want you to know that you're really, really not." He set down the last puff of choux decisively and set the knife down next to the big triple sinks. "What took you so long out there? To be totally honest I was expecting you back here within a few minutes."

"The front was busy," Jae Shin said, and hated how defensive he sounded. "Look, does it really -"

"All thanks to the profiteroles." Yong Ha glanced over his shoulder, grinning, but Jae Shin was too busy doing his best storm cloud impression to appreciate him sufficiently. "Fine, fine, I get it. I get it. So you've been helping Yoon Shik? Not doing bookkeeping? Should I be worried about my paycheck?"

"The front was too busy," Jae Shin repeated, feeling even more stupid than he did already. "Actually too busy. There's no space."

Yong Ha blew a strand of hair out of his face and started shuffling the pastries around, readjusting and reorganizing, putting them closer together. "This place used to be a house, you said. Isn't there an attic or something? Go clear that out and use it as an office." He picked up a now-empty baking sheet, slipped the used parchment into the trash, and slid it into the sink with a clang. "And are you going to hire someone to help Yoon Shik or are you just going to work the poor kid until he drops dead in front of the espresso machine?"

"He's not going to die."

"Everyone dies, Shin." Yong Ha wiped sweat from his forehead with a wrist. "There's some room for you now. Tell me about Yoon Shik's boy drama while I get these sorted."

"There's no boy drama," Jae Shin started to say, "it's just -"

"Oh please," Yong Ha interrupted, shooting him a look. "There's a boy, and there's drama. Is there any purer form? I've been the instigator of boy drama more times than I can count." He pulled a long, wicked looking bread knife from the magnetic strip over the sink. Tested the edge with a thumb. "I think I can recognize it when I see it."

The chair was still there, next to the counter, and Jae Shin picked it up - spun it around, straddled the seat, laid his arms over the back. Watched Yong Ha deftly slice the puffs of choux crosswise, knife slipping through the pastry quick and easy like a fish through water. "I don't know anything more to tell you. His name's Lee Seon Joon, he's in the law program, Kim Yoon Shik used to be in it with him." He made a face. "I don't like this. I'm not a gossip."

"That makes one of us, then. Why'd Yoon Shik leave the program?" Yong Ha glanced up and flashed the knife at Jae Shin. "Don't even think about clamming up now."

Jae Shin grimaced. "There was a queue a mile long out there. We didn't exactly have the place to ourselves. He didn't have a chance to say."

Yong Ha rolled his eyes and grabbed another puff. "You're useless."

"So I've been told."

Wait. Hold on. Yong Ha froze, blade almost slicing into his palm. He'd missed something important. "Did you say this Lee Seon Joon guy was in the law program with Kim Yoon Shik?" He looked up at Jae Shin, and the gears in his head went click clack, click clack. "Like... together. Before Yoon Shik worked here."

"Yeah." Jae Shin sat back in the chair, stretching his arms over his head. "So?"

"So nothing," Yong Ha said, shrugging with one shoulder. He'd gotten better at keeping That Look out of his face, the one that said I Solemnly Swear I Am Up To No Good. (It was a skill his mother had never managed to fully acquire.) "Did you seriously spend forty minutes out there working the front? Isn't it all women out there?"

"And the cake pervert. But I couldn't just -"

"You need to hire someone," Yong Ha interrupted, using the knife to gesture at Jae Shin. "I'm serious, Yoon Shik is either going to die from being overworked or you'll end up hiccuping yourself into a coma. And I'm terrible at customer service, so that's right out."

"But I just hired Yoon Shik!"

"That was, what, a month ago? And he's brought in more business than he can handle."

"Three weeks," Jae Shin argued, knowing full well he'd already lost. "I hired him three weeks ago."

"And in the last two we've done more business than we did in the entire month of August." Yong Ha looked up, saw the expression on Jae Shin's face. Relented - or pretended to, anyway. This was how it was supposed to go. This is how he knew it would go. "Okay. It's fine, don't worry about it. All right? The next person we hire is going to have to mostly work the case anyway, right, so I'll take care of it."

He couldn't decide whether to feel offended or victorious at the look Jae Shin gave him then. "You'll take care of it? Can I trust you?"

"Can you trust me?" Yong Ha looked Jae Shin in the eye. Grinned that curling grin. Arched one eyebrow. "Of course. I'm Gu Yong Ha."

  
"I really hate it when you say that."

"Get used to it, boss."

"I really hate that too."


	7. All Things Considered

"Did you ever get things sorted out with Yoon Shik and that... what was it? A law program?"

It was Monday night and for some reason (some godforsaken reason) Moon Jae Shin was with Gu Yong Ha again, even though they had been in each other's hair all week and had been about to murder each other by the time Yong Ha left the bakery on Saturday. Or maybe it had just been Jae Shin who'd been prepared to commit a felony, because lord knew what Yong Ha was thinking behind that face.

Time was he could read Yong Ha like a book, but he couldn't remember all the old quirks, the nuances of expression. Maybe he'd changed? He must have. They hadn't been part of each other's lives for three years (three and a half? had it been three and half years?) and hadn't really spent any real time together for two years before that. Call it five years then, nearly six... and Yong Ha was the kind of asshole who could be a different person at any given moment; it would be inconceivable for him to stay the same.

Even so, Jae Shin still watched him. The mannerisms may have changed, he might wear glasses these days, but somewhere under there was the kid he'd grown up with.

"It hasn't come up," he said. "Are you going to eat that jujube?"

Yong Ha made a face - frowned emphatically, scrunched up his nose - plucked the jujube out of his rice, and dropped it into Jae Shin's bowl as though he were disposing of a dead cockroach. "Have at it. I don't know why you eat those things."

"You can have my ginseng."

The restaurant was busy but far from packed, and the hum of conversation around them rose and fell like an unsteady wind. They were in the corner, a few tables away from everyone else in the restaurant, and for once no one was paying attention to them. Sometimes the bakery felt like a panopticon to Jae Shin: the women who came in seemed to come half for the cake and half to gawk at the staff, Yoon Shik was always careful of him, and even when he was alone behind the counter (in that last hour before closing up shop) the black windows seemed like eyes watching his every movement. Here, now, with just Yong Ha in front of him, the few patrons of the restaurant around him, he almost felt invisible.

"No, you eat your ginseng. It's good for you." Yong Ha picked up the tiny cup of ginseng wine between thumb and middle finger and threw it back in one shot, holding up the empty cup and cocking his head as he swallowed. "See? Makes you vigorous. Increases your stamina. Increases a lot of things, actually," he added nonchalantly, setting the cup down again. "Plus circulation or something, I don't know. Not really important."

Jae Shin picked up his own small cup and set it down next to Yong Ha's empty one. "Knock yourself out. Stamina and vigor aren't really the kind of thing I'm worried about."

"Right. Virgin. I forgot." Yong Ha waved his chopsticks reassuringly with his right hand, picked up Jae Shin's cup with his left. "It might take a little time since you're so terrible but we'll find somebody for you to bone eventually, Shin."

That didn't get him the glare he was expecting. No barked protest, no darkened expression. Jae Shin just reached across the table and plucked another jujube (hidden under a drift of rice) from Yong Ha's bowl with his metal chopsticks. "No thanks," he said, setting it down on a spoonful of rice. "I think you're the only person I know who wants samgyetang in October."

"That's because you never knew my grandma. Doing the wrong things at the wrong time is something of a tradition in my family. She made songpyeon in April, too. Are you planning on finding out any more about that whole law program situation?"

"Not really." And even if he were, he was pretty sure Yong Ha wouldn't know about it. "If Yoon Shik stays he stays, if he goes back to the law program I'll find somebody else to work the front."

"Right," Yong Ha said. "Because Yoon Shik was so easy to find."

Jae Shin glanced up, spoon halfway to his mouth. "He was. He practically fell into my lap, remember? The sign was up for a week at most."

"Yeah, but see what kind of trouble he brought with him," Yong Ha pushed. "If we - if you just sorted all that out it could be smooth sailing from here on out. Right?"

"Trouble?"

"Trouble," Yong Ha repeated. "You haven't noticed?"

Jae Shin stopped chewing for a second, a hunted look on his face. "Noticed what?"

"Don't talk with your mouth full," Yong Ha said, making a face and pushing a small stack of napkins across the tabletop. "What are you, an animal? And yes, trouble - Yoon Shik tells me that that ex-boyfriend of his has come in every day this week. Doesn't do anything, just orders a cup of tea and reads in the corner for an hour until Yoon Shik gets off work." He squinted and clicked his chopsticks together thoughtfully. "If we could get them to reconcile, maybe..."

"He isn't Yoon Shik's ex-boyfriend," Jae Shin said.

"Sure, sure," Yong Ha said, "but anyway -"

"No, not anyway," Jae Shin interrupted. He set his chopsticks down, the knot in his chest tightening. Maybe Yong Ha had changed, but he wasn't going to let him get to Yoon Shik. The look on Yong Ha's face three years ago was still hot and fresh in his mind. "They're not... they're not together. They never were."

Yong Ha's expression didn't change, almost frozen in place. If anything, his eyes just went hard. "What, are you jealous?"

"What?"

"I'm a little hurt that you're jealous," he said, cocking his head to one side. "Aren't we a match made in heaven? But seriously, anyone with two eyes -"

"That's enough." Jae Shin slid his chair back, (almost disappointed that there was no screech to add drama to the movement), and stood up quickly, reaching into his back pocket for his wallet. He threw two 10,000 won notes down on the table. "This conversation is over. Don't bring this bullshit into the bakery. I don't want Yoon Shik to hear it."

And he was gone, the bell over the door jingling in his wake.

Yong Ha stared down at the table, at the two green notes, at Jae Shin's stone bowl - with good meat still on the bone, uneaten ginseng carefully tucked to the side. Jae Shin never had leftovers, he was like a damn garbage disposal. But there they were. He didn't know what he'd been expecting, really. Maybe it was his fault for pushing, for trying to give Jae Shin an opportunity to show some sign that he wasn't still a homophobic piece of shit. Look what that got him.

"What are you looking at?" he mumbled irritably at King Sejong's face, staring up at him in duplicate from the 10,000 won notes. "You think this is my fault?"

King Sejong, of course, said nothing. Yong Ha squeezed his eyes shut and tried to remember why he'd thought this was a good idea.

  
Yoon Shik huffed on the stainless steel milk pitcher and rubbed it down with a rag until he could see his reflection in it. Even in the quiet moments there was something to do, something that needed cleaning, something that could make him irreplaceable. "How can I help you?" he said suddenly, not looking up from his work.

"How did you know I was there?" Yong Ha said, deflating. He leaned against the counter next to Yoon Shik and looked over his shoulder. "Are you developing psychic abilities?"

Yoon Shik held up the pitcher in one hand and waggled it back and forth. "You're not a vampire," he said, turning his head to look at Yong Ha over his shoulder. "Even you have a reflection."

Yong Ha slapped a hand dramatically to his chest, over his heart. "You've discovered my secret. I'm not actually a wicked creature of the night."

"Just wicked?"

"Touché, my young padawan. Touché."

The milk pitcher went back on the counter, the rag was folded up and placed under the edge of the espresso machine. Yoon Shik wiped sweat from his cheekbone with his wrist but just smeared coffee grounds on his skin instead. "What draws you out from your cave, O Dark Lord of the Night Bakery?"

"You think my kitchen is a cave? Come on, it's too well lit for that." He shrugged with his right shoulder, crossing his arms over his chest. "Do you know what's up with the boss? I think he's been avoiding me."

The look that flashed through Yoon Shik's eyes was all the proof he needed. "What... what makes you say that? He's just busy, I don't think -"

"That guy you've told me about," Yong Ha interrupted, waving a hand. "Is he your ex-boyfriend? It's okay if he is," he added, rolling his eyes at the look of panic that washed over Yoon Shik's face. "Just be honest."

"He's not -" Yoon Shik swallowed. Bit his lip. (Christ, but he was adorable. How had Jae Shin not figured it out by now? The kid was as transparent as a picture window.) "The Sungkyunkwan law program doesn't really allow the free time to date."

"But you have the time to work a part time job?"

The panic on Yoon Shik's face grew, if such a thing were possible. "I... no. It's actually not permitted. If you're caught - anyway, I'm not in the law program anymore, it doesn't matter."

"But you worked for four years at a shop in Jongno, I hear." Yong Ha glanced up at Yoon Shik's face and sighed. Shook his head. "Calm down. It's not like I'm going to call up the dean of the Sungkyunkwan law school and report you for truancy. Do I look like someone who has respect for rules? I'm a little hurt." He blew a strand of hair out of his face. "So that guy. He really isn't your ex-boyfriend."

"Absolutely not," Yoon Shik said, but his cheeks went red and his eyes turned downward. He grabbed the rag and started cleaning the counter industriously. "Even if I were, you know, I mean. I mean I wouldn't. He's rude, and opinionated, and clueless, and... a lot of other things. Even if I were a woman," he said quietly, "even if I were a woman, I wouldn't."

"Sounds like something you have strong feelings about," Yong Ha replied mildly, then paused. Glanced overhead, attention drawn by the telltale creak of an ancient floorboard. He bapped Yoon Shik in the shoulder gently. "Hey, do me a solid and don't mention this conversation to the boss, would you? He's kinda..." Yong Ha made a face and stuck his hand out, palm down; wobbled it back and forth as if to imply a lack of solid footing. "You know. With the whole not straight thing. Just don't mention it, is what I'm trying to say here."

Yoon Shik opened his mouth to respond but Yong Ha was already gone, the swinging of the kitchen door the only sign he'd been there at all.

Behind him, the door leading to the attic staircase creaked open. Yoon Shik heaved a sigh and closed his eyes. It was like a revolving door with these two, both of them thinking they were out-smarting the other, both walking on egg shells, both completely full of crap and unable to see it.

He folded the rag and placed it decisively under the edge of the espresso machine again. "How can I help you?" he said, not looking up.

"How did you know I was there?" Jae Shin said. He leaned over the edge of the counter and grabbed one of the little demitasse cups from next to the espresso machine. "Are you developing psychic abilities?"

"Your footsteps might be silent," Yoon Shik replied, reaching out to pluck the cup from Jae Shin's hand, "but those ancient hinges are not. The usual four o'clock special?"

Jae Shin held up two fingers. "Make it double."

Yoon Shik arched his eyebrows and whistled, twisting the filter from its slot on the machine and banging the old grounds out into the bin. "Hard day?"

"Not the worst I've had," Jae Shin replied, watching Yoon Shik slide the filter into the hopper and push whatever mysterious buttons needed to be pushed before the damn thing would work. "I didn't sleep that well last night."

"Is that unusual?" Yoon Shik pulled the portafilter and frowned at it. "I don't like that this hopper tamps for me after the grind. I mean, I'm sure it's fine, but I just like tamping myself, you know?"

"Not really unusual." Jae Shin glanced at the window looking into the kitchen. "Is he -"

"He's definitely in the middle of something," Yoon Shik said, not even having to look up to know what Jae Shin was talking about. "Don't worry, he's not about to come busting out of the kitchen." Like he'd give up the opportunity to sneak up on someone. "Why? Are you avoiding him or something?"

"That guy from the other day," Jae Shin said suddenly, dodging the question. "Lee Seon Joon. Is he your ex-boyfriend?"

Yoon Shik dropped the portafilter. Coffee grounds exploded out of the basket and dusted the floor, the cabinets, his apron. "What?" he said.

Jae Shin stared at the floor. "Do you need a hand with anything?"

Yoon Shik shook his head vigorously. "It's dry, it'll sweep up fine. Let me just pull your shots, give me a second."

"It's okay if he is," Jae Shin said quickly. "Just -"

"Be honest?" Yoon Shik interrupted, slamming the second, now-full filter into the espresso machine. Turned on the water. Slid two shot glasses under the streams of espresso. "He's not my ex-boyfriend. Really." The contents of both shot glasses went into the demitasse cup and he reached down to the fridge. "You want double everything?"

"If there's room."

"Double con panna," Yoon Shik said, the whipped cream hissing out of the canister into a perfect curl. He set the cup up on the bar with a click. "That's 4,000 won, boss."

"Ha ha," Jae Shin replied. "That's hilarious." He hooked a thumb over his shoulder in the general direction of the kitchen. "Don't tell that jerk that I drink con panna, all right?"

Yoon Shik shrugged. "No worries. Would he even care?"

"Knowing him, yes," Jae Shin replied, bringing the cup to his mouth. He paused. "And Yoon Shik -"

"Boss?"

"Don't mention to him that we had this conversation either, all right? He wouldn't be okay with it, and I don't want to have to hire another damn pastry chef."

Yoon Shik stared at him. "You mean the conversation about whether or not Seon Joon is my ex-boyfriend? That conversation? He wouldn't be okay with that conversation. That's the conversation you're referring to, as the one with which he wouldn't be okay." He paused. "That conversation?"

"Have you always repeated yourself that much?" Jae Shin sipped at his cup. "Good coffee, though. Come get me when you're done, all right?"

Yoon Shik opened his mouth to respond but Jae Shin was already gone, the creaking of those stupid hinges the only sign he'd been there at all. He sighed again, like he did fifteen times a day lately, and slowly, gently bent over to rest his forehead on the cool marble counter top. This was going to give him some kind of illness. Heart disease, maybe. Some kind of nervous system damage. An ulcer. Probably an ulcer.

The bell over the door clonked, and someone stepped over the threshold. Walked up to the counter. Cleared their throat.

"How can I help you?" Yoon Shik said into the countertop. "Your usual?"

"How did you know it was me?" Lee Seon Joon said, somewhere over the top of his head. He bent down and tried to peer into Yoon Shik's face. "Are you all right?"

Yoon Shik inhaled a deep breath. Held it for a few seconds. Let it out slowly. "I'm working on it," he said, standing upright again. "I knew it was you because I'd know your walk anywhere." He smiled, knowing how messy he looked (hair sticking up every which way, coffee grounds all over his clothes) and just for a second not caring at all. "Do you want the usual?"

"Please," Seon Joon said, before pausing. "You're really all right?"

"God," Yoon Shik said, pressing a palm to his forehead. "My boss... it's too ridiculous to get into, but the boss and the pastry chef have been fighting? Or something? I don't know. And they both think you're my ex-boyfriend, but they don't want the other one to know that they think that. I don't know. I don't know!" He slapped himself in the face with both hands as if to wake himself up. "If they don't make up soon I'm going to strangle one of them. Or both of them. Both sounds good."

"They think I'm your ex-boyfriend? What did you tell them?"

"I told them you weren't, obviously," Yoon Shik replied, shaking his head, reaching for a large for-here mug and the tin of Seon Joon's favorite tea. "What else was there to say?"

But Seon Joon was just looking at him, lips just barely parted. Yoon Shik's hand went to his face. "Is there-?"

"Come here," Seon Joon said, reaching out for Yoon Shik's jaw. He licked the pad of his thumb. "Hold still." And carefully, gently, sweetly scrubbed the smear of coffee from Yoon Shik's cheekbone. "It's probably best you told them I'm not your ex-boyfriend."

"Probably so," Yoon Shik said, and blushed, touching the place on his jaw where Seon Joon had placed his hand. "All things considered."

  
God, it was cold. God, this coat was thin. God, god... was the result really worth the inconvenience?

Gu Yong Ha let out a long, slow breath, dug his hands into his pockets, and shrugged his coat higher up over his chin. The strap of the shoulder bag dug into his neck but he didn't care enough to adjust it. He'd been off work for twenty minutes - just enough to inhale a bowl of bibimbap at the tiny shop around the corner and then bolt back to the spot he'd cased the day before, half a block from the bakery. It was out of the wind (and the rain, if there had been any, which there wasn't) and out of sight of the windows while still being close enough to tell when anyone went in or out of the front door.

He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and glared at the screen through fogged up glasses. For the last two weeks you could have set your watch by that son of a bitch, and today of all days he decided to be late? Five more minutes, five more minutes of this and he'd leave. Just watch. He'd be so out of here. Fuck whatever plot he'd cooked up, this was ridiculous.

Ten minutes later he was still in the same spot, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet and wishing he'd known this would take so damn long back when he had still been in the restaurant - he would have eaten slower, for one. Maybe taken the opportunity to take a piss. Definitely taken the opportunity to take a piss. Where the fuck was that asshole?

He was coming down the street, was where he was. Hands in the pockets of his coat, stride long and unhurried, spine straight and shoulders square like a holy warrior on a mission handed down from heaven.

Yong Ha hissed a weary sigh through his teeth for the umpteenth time and rolled his eyes. He was going to have to time this right if it was going to work.

When the footsteps were three, two, one meter away - he stepped out from under cover. Fixed his quarry with a slow, curling grin. "I think," he said smoothly, "I can help you achieve what you're striving for."

Lee Seon Joon stood frozen in his tracks, staring at him. "Who are you?"

Yong Ha shrugged. "Let's go get a drink."

  
Lee Seon Joon reached for the bottle of soju between them, but Yong Ha swatted his hand away. "Stop that," he said. "Don't think you have to pour for me. I'm older than you, but I'm not old." He uncapped the bottle with a twist and sloshed soju into two shot glasses before setting the bottle back down on the plastic table. He pushed one of the glasses across the table. "Have a drink."

The roadside stand had only just finished setting up half an hour ago, and they were two of only five people in the little plastic tent, not including the ajumma behind the grill. The other three people were much drunker and much rowdier than anyone had any right to be at 5:30pm on a Tuesday night in late October, but at least it kept attention off of them.

Seon Joon reached out warily for his glass, picking it up as though it were a tea cup. Yong Ha resisted the almost uncontrollable urge to roll his eyes. Was this guy for real? "Well?"

"Why did you say you'd help me?" Seon Joon ventured, his back still straight, shoulders still square. His shot glass hung suspended in his hand, not going anywhere near his mouth.

Yong Ha shrugged again. "I thought you'd be grateful," he said, arching his eyebrows and inclining his head to one side. "If you aren't, I guess I should just leave." He moved to stand up, one hand reaching for the flap of his shoulder bag to go for his wallet.

But Seon Joon stood up first, hand outstretched. "No! I mean," he amended quickly, sitting back down again, "No. Thank you. I am grateful. It's just -"

Yong Ha licked his lips and removed his glasses. Huffed on the lenses. Polished them clean on the bottom of his shirt. Waited for Seon Joon to choke out whatever it was that he wanted to say.

"It's just that there's no reason for you to help me," Seon Joon finished. He looked like he was stuck somewhere between embarrassed by his own behavior and offended by Yong Ha's.

"Reason?" Yong Ha pursed his lips and looked upward, bringing a hand to his chin thoughtfully. "You really want to know? Friendship, maybe, with a fellow scholar of my alma mater. Loyalty for another guy who can't seem to keep his friendships in line." He paused. "A kind heart that hopes for someone else's deepest desires to come true?"

Lee Seon Joon stared at him, face blank, shot glass still held in the air between them.

Yong Ha leaned forward. Slid his glasses back onto the bridge of his nose. Grinned conspiratorially. "Come on. You didn't honestly expect to hear shit like that, right?"

"What?"

"Fun," Yong Ha said, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest. "For fun. I want to see how far you'll go. Drink your soju," he added. "What are you, twelve? One shot, kid."

Seon Joon grimaced and glared down at the glass in his hand as if he'd almost managed to forget it was there. "I don't like alcohol," he said.

"You do today. Knock it back, or I won't tell you my genius plan."

Seon Joon opened his mouth as if to speak, but thought better of it once he saw the look on Yong Ha's face. Instead he just threw the shot back and swallowed it as fast as he could and he almost seemed cool for the half a second before he started choking and Yong Ha had to get up and whack him on the back repeatedly until he got his breath back. "I really don't like alcohol," he said hoarsely, once Yong Ha had gotten the chance to sit back down and catch his breath.

"I'm starting to pick that up," Yong Ha replied. "Tell you what, I'll finish this bottle, shall I? If you drink much more I think my arm is going to fall off from blunt force trauma."

Lee Seon Joon just waved a hand wordlessly and shook his head. "So what's your genius plan, then?"

"Right, right," Yong Ha said, pouring himself another shot. He paused, grimaced at the amount he'd poured, and sloshed in a little more before setting the bottle back down. "Listen. There's only one way for you to get Kim Yoon Shik back into the law program where you seem to believe he belongs. It's dangerous and it involves a huge sacrifice. Are you still willing to do it?"

Silence from the other side of the table. Yong Ha glanced up warily. Lee Seon Joon looked like he was thinking. "It's something I've made up my mind to do," he said finally, looking up to meet Yong Ha's eye. "Is there anything else that needs to be said?"

Yong Ha flashed a sideways grin and held up his shot glass. "That's what I like to hear."

God... what a douche. What the hell did she see in him?

  
Tuesdays might have been the worst day of the week. The shop was closed on Mondays so Tuesday morning was when Yong Ha came in early and made an unholy racket in the kitchen getting everything stocked up for the week. (Almost everything was made same-day, of course, but it was always good to have something for a backup.) Kim Yoon Shik had Mondays and Tuesdays off, which meant, of course, that at 11:30am on it was just Moon Jae Shin and Gu Yong Ha, trapped together in the bakery.

Jae Shin's one consolation was that Yong Ha seemed to be avoiding him almost as strenuously as he was being avoided. For a little more than a week they'd barely exchanged a dozen words between them, most of those words forced out of them by Yoon Shik (rolling his eyes and sighing loudly). But with Yoon Shik off, Jae Shin was almost... comfortable? assuming that Yong Ha wouldn't set food outside of the kitchen unless he absolutely had to.

Which is probably why he found it so surprising when (his back to the swinging door that hid the kitchen from the front) cool fingers laced themselves between the fingers of his right hand.

"What the hell," he choked out, jerking his hand up, away. "What-"

"You just looked so pensive," Yong Ha said, his hand still held out in front of him; fingers splayed where he'd slipped them into Jae Shin's hand. "You should see yourself. Can you blame me?" He winked. "What's up out here, boss?"

Jae Shin swallowed and wiped his hand on his shirt. "You scared the shit out of me. Why aren't you in the back?"

Yong Ha shrugged. "All the ovens are full. You're a lot more interesting."

It was like the last week had never happened. They'd never fought, they hadn't spent eight days studiously dodging one another, they were just... back. Right back at the beginning, if it could be called that. Jae Shin's chest clenched. Was that how this was going to go? Every time? "You're ridiculous."

"You're learning," Yong Ha said sweetly, and slipped his left hand through the crook of Jae Shin's elbow. "Remember when I told you that I'd take care of hiring another person?"

He'd been all ready to pull away again, but stopped, his focus sliding from Yong Ha's hand on his arm to the words coming out of his mouth. "Hiring another person?" But he found himself again, and pulled. "We don't need to hire anyone else."

"Right, because I'm sure we all love knowing that we aren't permitted to get sick," Yong Ha drawled. He reached out and plucked an invisible bit of lint from Jae Shin's collar. "You agreed. I know you agreed." He glanced up, eyebrows up. "Don't argue with me."

"Okay," Jae Shin said stupidly, his concentration broken and folded and pulled in too many different directions. He couldn't help but watch the way Yong Ha moved his hand, his wrist: extending out toward him like - Wait. Shit. "I mean, no. Not okay."

"Shh." Yong Ha shook his head and patted Jae Shin on the cheek before Jae Shin regained the presence of mind to bat his hand away. "Remember? The profiteroles."

"Stop touching my face. What about the profiteroles?" Oh. "Look, Yoon Shik never actually got set on fire, that was just-"

"Stop," Yong Ha said. His hand dropped just as suddenly as did the smile around his eyes. "Is it always going to be like this? It's like you're fighting with me for the sake of fighting." He leaned forward. "Can you just listen to me for five minutes?"

Jae Shin leaned away from him. Just a little, not a lot - he caught himself before he fell too far. "Five minutes," he said.

"Five minutes." Yong Ha could do a lot in five minutes. "I found somebody. Not a ton of experience, but learns fast. I'll take responsibility," he added quickly, throwing his hands up. "Just give it three months. Three months, and if it doesn't work out, then..."

"Three months?" Jae Shin chewed his lip. "You'll take responsibility?"

"Scout's honor," Yong Ha said solemnly, laying a hand over his heart.

"Stop that." Jae Shin caught Yong Ha's rolled up sleeve with two hooked fingers and tugged his arm down. "You're not a boy scout by any stretch of the imagination."

"I'm great at knots," Yong Ha replied. "Don't impugn my honor. So it's agreed? I'll take responsibility," he repeated again. "Three months."

"Three months," Jae Shin echoed. "Fine."

"Promise?"

Jae Shin rolled his eyes and grimaced. "I promise."

"Was that so hard? That was one minute," Yong Ha said, prodding Jae Shin on the shoulder and grinning. "Two minutes, tops. I'm not the worst thing in the world to listen to for two minutes."

Sometimes it was hard to remember to resent him, usually when he was within arm's reach and grinning like that kid he used to know - glasses or not, he was Gu Yong Ha. Still, more, again. The look on his face was just like it was five years ago. "I guess," Jae Shin said, because he couldn't think of anything else to say.

The bell over the door clonked, and Yong Ha turned his head - before grinning at Jae Shin and slipping an arm around his waist, pulling him close. "Remember," he breathed into Jae Shin's ear before he had the chance to push away, "three months. You promised."

Jae Shin wedged his arm between their bodies and tried to lever some distance between them. "What are you-"

"Um."

Their heads turned in unison toward the front door.

Lee Seon Joon stood awkwardly, only a few steps inside the bakery, the early afternoon light beaming through the stained glass window like a spotlight. He looked back and forth between them before slowly raising a finger. "Are you two... busy?" he hazarded. "Should I come back?"


	8. Better to Ask Forgiveness

"You went out and hired Kim Yoon Shik's ex-boyfriend?" Jae Shin hissed, following close behind Yong Ha as he fled into the kitchen. "You seriously thought that was a good idea. You seriously thought - I can't believe you!"

"I didn't know!" Yong Ha whispered back urgently, waving a hand defensively in front of his face. "I've seen him once - once! - and that was weeks ago! Nobody told me his name!"

"You expect me to believe this isn't some kind of... some kind of scheme?" Jae Shin tried to calm down, tried to breathe, but it wasn't working. "I've known you for years, there's no way you would do something this perfectly underhanded by accident."

"Underhanded?" Yong Ha clenched his jaw and backed up against the butcher block, wrapping his hands around the edge. "Oh, thanks. Yeah, you obviously know me so well." Okay, so Jae Shin kind of did know him pretty well. He wasn't stupid - of course he'd done it on purpose. "I didn't do it on purpose."

Jae Shin straightened his back. Took a deep breath. Looked at the ceiling, looked at the door that stood between them and motherfucking Lee Seon Joon, of all people. Gu Yong Ha really hadn't seen him, had he? He really hadn't. And Jae Shin couldn't remember ever saying Lee Seon Joon's name to him. Damn. Damn. God damn it. "You think Yoon Shik is going to be okay with this?"

"Aren't they friends?" The knot around Yong Ha's lungs loosened. A light trembled to life at the opposite end of the tunnel - dim and weak, but he could work with anything. Just give him a string, the thinnest possible lifeline, and he'd be fine in the end. "Every time Yoon Shik says anything about this guy he describes him as a friend."

"That's..." That wasn't the point. Was it? "That's for Yoon Shik to decide. We can't just go behind his back and hire some guy he has issues with."

"You hired me," Yong Ha said - and stopped, mouth open. Closed his mouth. Opened it again. "I mean... shit. Look -" But he looked up, and finally shut up.

Jae Shin stared at him, lips parted, not saying anything. "That... that's different," he said stupidly.

"It is different, you're right." Yong Ha stared at the floor. "But look, if we put it to Yoon Shik -"

"If Yoon Shik says it's okay, Lee Seon Joon stays?"

Yong Ha glanced up. The light at the end of the tunnel burned just a little bit brighter. "Look, whatever his background with Yoon Shik might be, I really do think he'll do a good job."

Jae Shin groaned and squeezed his eyes shut, rubbing a hand over his face. This was every argument he'd ever had with Yong Ha all over again - no matter how much sense he knew he was making, no matter how right he was, no matter how unreasonable Yong Ha's opinion - he always lost his footing halfway through, the ground shifting under him. These days everything was an argument, and he couldn't help but feel as though he'd lost every single one.

"If Yoon Shik says it's okay," he said firmly, finally. "Only if Yoon Shik says it's okay. Completely, irrevocably okay. Any hesitation, any uncertainty - Lee Seon Joon's out, no arguments."

"No arguments," Yong Ha lied, and only just barely managed to keep a grin off his face. "You realize that you just described Lee Seon Joon as Yoon Shik's ex-boyfriend, right?"

"What?" Shit. "No I didn't."

"I heard you. So do you know something I don't?"

"I didn't call him that," Jae Shin insisted, backing away. "I'm telling him to go home for today. We'll call him after we talk to Yoon Shik."

"You did," Yong Ha yelled after him. "You did call him that!"

"No I didn't!" The words were muffled by the door, and Yong Ha grinned.

  
Kim Yoon Shik sat at the edge of his chair, hands on his knees. His eyes darted back and forth between Jae Shin and Yong Ha, seated across from him at the table. He cleared his throat. "So," he said. "Boss. You're, uh, you're here early."

"We have to talk to you," Yong Ha said abruptly, holding up a hand.

Yoon Shik blinked twice, rapidly. "Am I fired?"

"What?" Jae Shin said. "Fired?"

"You're not fired," Yong Ha sighed, rolling his eyes and kicking Jae Shin's ankle under the table. Jae Shin winced and glared at him. "Listen, we need someone else in the shop -"

"Tell me about it," Yoon Shik interjected, not thinking.

"- But we want to check in with you before making a final decision," Yong Ha continued, shooting Yoon Shik a pointed look. "Since you have seniority."

"Wait," Yoon Shik said slowly. "So, what... you want me to sit in on an interview or something? I can do that," he added quickly, leaning forward. "It's fine. No problem."

"This asshole already pretty much hired somebody," Jae Shin said, hooking a thumb over his shoulder in Yong Ha's general direction. Yong Ha made a face at him and made a spectacularly rude gesture behind his back. "But we're not going to keep him if you're not okay with it. It's totally up to you."

"Why would I care who you hire?"

Yong Ha opened his mouth, took in a quick inhale - "It's Lee Seon Joon," Jae Shin cut in, the words coming out bitten and short. "He went out and hired Lee Seon Joon, sight unseen."

"I told you I didn't know it was the same guy," Yong Ha hissed out of the corner of his mouth.

"And I told you that I don't believe you," Jae Shin spat back.

"You hired Lee Seon Joon?"

They froze, and turned back to look at Yoon Shik. He sat still, looking back and forth between their faces, his expression almost studiously blank. "Yyyes," Jae Shin said, then backtracked. Bit his tongue. Held up a hand, palm out. "I mean... he did. I wasn't involved, I swear."

"I didn't know that he was your - your friend," Yong Ha said quickly, elbowing Jae Shin viciously in the arm in an act of vengeance.

Yoon Shik shrugged. "Okay," he said. "Sounds good."

Yong Ha shook his head and waved a hand placatingly. "Just listen for a second, I think it could work if we - wait, what?"

Jae Shin blinked. "What did you say?"

"Sounds good," Yoon Shik repeated. He looked at Jae Shin, then Yong Ha, then Jae Shin again. "What, did you think I was going to throw a fit or something? He can be a jerk sometimes but he's still my friend. He's smart as hell, he'll be great at this job. Can't think why he'd want to work here, though," he added mildly, looking thoughtfully upward. "Not that the job isn't all right, but he's rich, you know? I need the money, but he's doing just fine."

"Oh," Yong Ha said.

"Yeah." Jae Shin turned to glare at Yong Ha. "I can't think why he'd want to work here either."

Yong Ha threw his hands up in the air. "Will you stop assuming I'm masterminding everything for five seconds?"

"Depends - will you stop masterminding everything for five seconds?"

"I am not masterminding everything! Sometimes coincidences happen! There's a reason there's a word for this kind of situation!"

But Yoon Shik was pushing out his chair, standing up. "Are we done?" He glanced at the front door and starting rolling up one of his sleeves. "Not that your... whatever this is -" he waved a hand in the general direction of Jae Shin and Yong Ha (Jae Shin's face an alarming shade of pink) "- isn't extremely diverting, but I have to start up the espresso machine if it's going to be up and running by noon."

"Chocolate chiffon cakes don't invert themselves," Yong Ha said, pushing his chair away from the table and standing up. He brushed invisible dust from his apron and shot a supercilious glance at Jae Shin over his glasses. "Better hurry up, boss. Rush is starting in thirty minutes and you need to call the newbie to come in for training." He paused, and pursed his lips together in an expression of mock thoughtfulness. "You know... since Yoon Shik said it was okay."

Jae Shin slid slowly down in his chair and put a hand over his face. It was going to be a long week. He could already tell.

  
"So they asked me today if it was okay to hire you," Yoon Hee said.

Lee Seon Joon paused, ramen noodles hanging out of his mouth. "Mmf?"

She shrugged and plucked a chunk of kimchi out of its banchan dish, popping it into her mouth. "It was kind of sweet actually. I think they'd been arguing about it. Pretty sure they still think we used to date."

"Ah," Seon Joon said. He set his bowl down carefully and laid his chopsticks down on the table next to it, adjusting them to make sure they were perfectly aligned. "Did you tell them I already asked you about it?"

"Ha ha, no," Yoon Hee cackled, draining her little metal cup of water to the dregs before slamming it delightedly back down onto the table. "This is way too much fun for all that."

"I think Gu Yong Ha thinks he's doing this to get us back together," Seon Joon said, choosing his words carefully.

"I think Moon Jae Shin thinks we hate each other," Yoon Hee said. "Do you know that they both think the other is a homophobe?" She shook her head in wonderment. "I mean I knew that men can't talk about their feelings, but this takes the cake." She glanced down at the watch on the underside of her wrist and started, the color in her cheeks blanching. "Shit, I have to go. Mom has to go to bed soon and I'm on first watch."

"I'll get this," Seon Joon said quickly, standing up with her. "Really. Don't worry about it."

"You don't have to buy me food all the time," she replied, shouldering into her heavy coat, the wool still damp with rain. She shot him a smile, though. "Maybe this means I can start coming in later."

Seon Joon watched her swing her old school bag over her shoulder, pick up the chopsticks, cram another bit of kimchi into her mouth. The school bag was straining at the seams: filled with an extra sweater, a couple of books, a few old magazines she'd lifted from the tables at the bakery, a couple of video games she'd picked up at a second-hand store. The bag was closed, of course, but he knew what the contents were regardless - he'd gone through the bag when she'd gone to the bathroom to wash her hands.

"Are mornings getting busier for you?" he asked innocently. Buttoned up his jacket. Pulled his wallet out of his pocket. Kept a close eye on her expression.

Her face didn't change, not much, but she stilled like a pond very suddenly devoid of fish. The last piece of kimchi slipped out of the grip of her chopsticks and she seemed intent on chasing it around and around the little white banchan dish. "A bit," she said after a moment. "My brother..." The kimchi slipped over the lip of the dish, splattered on the formica tabletop, and she muttered a curse under her breath. "He's not responding to the treatment as well as he could be. He can't... it... it's harder for him to do things."

"Do you need any help?"

Yoon Hee gave up and just stabbed the kimchi through the thick midrib of the cabbage leaf. "Why did you take the job at the bakery?" she asked, her voice so quiet that it was almost drowned out by the noise of the tiny, humid ramen shop. "It's not permitted. If you're caught working you might get kicked out of the law program."

For what might have been the first time in... well, a very long time at least, Lee Seon Joon wasn't sure what to say. "You're wasted there," he said finally. "You're the smartest person in the entire law department. You had an internship all but set in stone. The head of the department has already offered to write you a recommendation letter to any firm you might be interested in after you graduate. In a few years you could be making enough money to -"

"In a few years." Yoon Hee glowered at the kimchi impaled on her chopstick, held firm against the table like a butterfly in a shadow box. "In a few years." She looked up at him finally - eyes hard, mouth tight. "And you don't see why I'm working?"

"Yes, in a few years." He picked his own bag up from the back of his chair and slung it over one shoulder. "In a few years you could be making enough money that you and your family would never have to worry about anything again. I don't see why you're throwing that away."

"How old is that bag?" she said suddenly, nodding at the bag on his shoulder. "Four years old? Six?"

He glanced down at the leather strap. "I think I've had it since I was... eleven, maybe? It's old and beat up, but it's still fine. Why -"

"Guess how old my bag is."

Seon Joon glared at her. "Don't change the subject."

"I'm not changing the subject. Guess how old my bag is."

"I don't know," he admitted after a moment of consideration. "You have a lot of different ones. A few years? Maybe more, it's practically falling apart."

She shook her head and smiled, a funny hard smile that didn't look particularly happy. "It's six months old. And I don't have a lot of different ones, I only have one bag at any one time. You know why?" She glared at him, challenging him, baiting him. "Hey. Lee Seon Joon. Do you know why I only ever have one bag and they all fall apart within a year?"

Seon Joon just shook his head. He didn't have an answer.

"Because they're cheap as hell," she said. "Because I can't afford a real leather school bag that lasts twelve years. I buy a cheap one for 15,000 won and use it until it splits at the seams and then I buy another one for 15,000 won and the cycle repeats, over and over and over. So while you've had one good leather bag for twelve years that cost your parents - what, 100,000? maybe 200,000 won? - I've spent about 400,000 won over the course of the last twelve years because I don't have the room in my budget for one good bag."

He flinched. "Couldn't you just save up?"

"That would take months, Joon." Her hand tightened on the chopstick. "Years, even. And in the meantime I still need a damn bag. Do you get it now? Do you understand why 'in a few years' doesn't mean shit? If I'm not working, in a few years my brother will have died from a treatable illness and all the money in the world wouldn't be able to bring him back."

"Oh," he said.

"Yeah," Yoon Hee replied, and stuffed the skewered kimchi into her mouth. "Oh."

"All right," he said after a second. "But I can't have you working by yourself with two other men. It's dangerous."

"With two men?" She glared at him and chewed ferociously. "Joon, they think I'm a dude. And anyway that's terrible logic: with you working there I'm working by myself with three men. Isn't that half again more dangerous, then?"

"I'm not dangerous!"

"That's what they all say," Yoon Hee replied, dropping the chopsticks on the table. "After all that I don't feel so bad about you buying me food all the time. It's just compensation for putting up with you at this point."

"That was uncalled for," Seon Joon protested, following her to the front of the shop. His wallet was already in his hand and for a second he almost felt stupid about it.

"Maybe," Yoon Hee said. She grabbed a ginseng candy from a dish on the front counter and pushed the door open with her back, grinning at him as she tossed the candy in her mouth. "See you at work, Lee Seon Joon."

And he was left, mouth still open, a ten thousand won note between his fingers, a sharp retort hanging on his tongue.

She always did this to him. She always did this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the next chapter the Christmas Arc begins. Are you excited? Because I'm excited.


	9. A Weird Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song Yong Ha quotes is Whatever You Like by T.I. And no, if you're curious, I am not sorry.

Moon Jae Shin sat at one of the tables next to the window, newspaper spread out in front of him. His legs were crossed, his elbows were on the table, his head was bent. He was focused. Concentrated. Riveted, even. Certainly beyond impossible to distract, even if someone were to do something very, very annoying for a very, very long time. So undistractible, in fact, as to be nearly -

"What the fuck are you whistling?" Jae Shin snapped, letting one of his fists fall to the table top with a thud.

"A Christmas song," Yong Ha replied, in the manner of someone who has been waiting for the opportunity to answer just such a question. He pivoted smoothly on his heel to face Jae Shin, a beatific smile spread wide across his face. "I could sing it instead, if you liked."

"Please, for the love of god, please don't sing." Jae Shin had woken up with a headache. Hell, he'd gone to bed the night before with a headache. The last thing he needed was for Gu Yong Ha, of all people, to sing a motherfucking Christmas song.

Yong Ha stuck his tongue out. "Hey. Boss."

Jae Shin bent his head over the newspaper again, not really reading it but determined to try. "Don't call me boss."

But then - god - Yong Ha was right next to him, leaning over him, one hand on his shoulder and the other on the table (on the newspaper, of course, right on the article he'd been reading; Jae Shin sometimes suspected Yong Ha was actually a cat), face only a few inches away from his own. "Be honest," Yong Ha murmured, breath hot against Jae Shin's skin. "Do you hate fun?"

It would have been nice, then, to be able to say that he said something, but instead he just sputtered something that wasn't really words at all and shrugged Yong Ha's arm off his shoulders. "I don't hate fun," he managed, after regaining a little of his composure.

"You just hate my kind of fun," Yong Ha said, smoothly pulling up a chair and swinging his leg over it to sit down on it backwards. He rested his chin on his arms, resting on the back of the chair, and looked up at Jae Shin thoughtfully over his glasses. "So you know it's almost Christmas, right?"

"It's barely November," Jae Shin replied, trying to read the damn newspaper. His skin was still warm where Yong Ha's hands had been. "It's not 'almost Christmas' until at least December."

"See? You do hate fun." Yong Ha wrinkled his nose and sat up straight, extending his left arm out in front of him in a long stretch. "God, could you like... like grab my wrist and pull? But gently. Super gently."

"Your what?"

"My wrist," Yong Ha said again, waving his hand up and down to illustrate. Then he just... waited.

Jae Shin breathed in. He breathed out. He thought about what life could have been like if he'd hired any other pastry chef, any other pastry chef at all in the world. He probably wouldn't have to pull on anyone's wrist. No one would touch him all over. No one would whistle Christmas carols off-key while he had a headache. No one would force him to learn about cake, no one would bother him all the time, no one would email him limericks.

He closed his hand around Yong Ha's wrist and pulled - gently. (Super gently.) "What is this achieving, exactly?"

"I have this one rib," Yong Ha said, bracing against the back of the chair and resisting Jae Shin's force from his shoulder blade, "that always seems to get stuck. Especially when I'm bent over doing something for a long time. Pull just a little harder, will you?"

Jae Shin pulled just a little harder and Yong Ha's back cracked so alarmingly that his heart jumped into his throat. He dropped the wrist almost as if it were a loaded gun and half stood up, his chair squeaking on the tile, his hand reaching for Yong Ha's shoulder. "Jesus Christ, are you okay? Did I break something?"

But Yong Ha was rolling his left shoulder experimentally and grinning at him, face tight. "Don't tell my physical therapist," he said. "I'm not really supposed to crack my back. Can we talk about Christmas for a few minutes?" He looked at the expression on Jae Shin's face. "Indulge me - I'm the one who has to plan out menus. You might think it's too early but I'm already running late."

"Your physical therapist told you that you're not supposed to crack your back," Jae Shin said slowly, "but you just want to talk about Christmas."

Yong Ha shrugged, still favoring his left shoulder. "Usually."

After a second of stunned silence Jae Shin realized he was still standing up and tried sitting down instead. Suddenly he really wanted to know what the skin of Yong Ha's shoulder looked like under that white chef coat. Was it a burn? A gunshot wound? Blunt force trauma?

He almost lifted his hand from the table, almost undid the first button of Yong Ha's chef coat, almost pulled the fabric from his throat - but he didn't. Instead he just said: "What happened to you?"

"Nothing!" Yong Ha protested, holding up a hand, palm out. "Come on, how long have you known me? I'm all about Christmas! I think it comes from being the baby in a Catholic family," he mused, squinting at the ceiling in a moment of rose-tinted nostalgia. "You wouldn't believe the kind of shit you can get away with in those sorts of circumstances. But listen, I was thinking we should do Christmas deliveries."

"Excuse me?"

"That's a good idea," came Yoon Shik's voice from the front door.

Both of their heads turned in one smooth, synchronized movement. Kim Yoon Shik stood at the front door, stomping his feet on the mat to get all the bits of leaf and mud off the soles, shaking his umbrella furiously out the open door. Lee Seon Joon stood beside him, looking about at home as a frog in the middle of a bundt cake. "It's miserable out there," Yoon Shik grumbled, stabbing the bright yellow umbrella into the umbrella stand next to the front door, swinging his big thick coat off his shoulders and hanging it on the coat rack. "I'm making myself some hot chocolate, if anyone wants some."

"Yessss," Yong Ha said. "I love you."

"You're late," Jae Shin said, paying absolutely zero attention to Yong Ha whatsoever.

"Am not," Yoon Shik replied over his shoulder, as he shoved through the swinging door into the back. "You told me I could come in at two today. It's on the calendar and everything."

"You did," Yong Ha said, at the same time Jae Shin opened his mouth to argue. "I watched you write it on the calendar myself."

Yoon Shik re-emerged from the back, sleeves of his white button-up rolled up to his elbows, hands behind his back still tying the apron strings. "It's a good idea," he said, flipping a switch on the espresso machine. "Christmas deliveries, I mean. We're already pretty popular, but it'd be a good way to solidify our base."

Yong Ha whistled a long, descending note. "Brain so good, coulda' sworn you went to college," he said.

"Stop quoting American pop music at my employees," Jae Shin said, making a face. "It's weird."

"Your face is weird."

Jae Shin just glared at him. "Seon Joon. What do you think?"

Lee Seon Joon looked up. He'd followed Yoon Shik to the display case and now stood beside him with his hands full of empty mugs, waiting for Yoon Shik to fill them with hot chocolate. "What? About your face?"

"No, not about my face," Jae Shin said, voice strained. (Yong Ha covered his mouth with a hand but was unsuccessful in trying to hide the smile behind it.) "About Christmas deliveries. Keep in mind one of you is going to have to actually do the delivering."

"I can't," Yong Ha interjected quickly, waving a hand. "You need me to make what's getting delivered."

"It's a good idea," Seon Joon mused, balancing the now-full mugs carefully. He came over and set one of them on the table in front of Yong Ha. "As Yoon Shik says, it could well serve to solidify our already considerable customer base."

Behind him, on the other side of the display case, Yoon Shik rolled his eyes and performed an extremely rude impression of Seon Joon. Jae Shin ignored him studiously. "So that's you volunteering, then?"

Seon Joon choked a little on his hot chocolate. "Me?"

"Let me know if you need me to thump you on the back a few times," Yong Ha said smoothly, inspecting his nails.

"I don't know how to drive," Seon Joon mumbled into his cup.

"I'll do it." Yoon Shik said. He set his own mug down on the table and pulled out a chair. "I've got a moped already, and-"

"No," all three of them said in unison, turning on Yoon Shik like a trio of angry gods. Yong Ha and Seon Joon glared at each other for a second before turning to glare at Jae Shin instead - who wasn't paying any attention to them at all. "Neither of these jerks knows how to work the espresso machine," Jae Shin continued. "You need to stay in the shop."

Yoon Shik made a face and slid down in his chair, grumbling unintelligibly into his hot chocolate.

"I guess that leaves you," Yong Ha said, taking a sip of his hot chocolate and giving Jae Shin an indecipherable look over his glasses.

Jae Shin recoiled. "Me? In what world -"

"It's a good idea for the business," Yong Ha interrupted. "You said so yourself." (Yong Ha knew that Jae Shin hadn't said anything of the sort, but who was counting?) "And somebody needs to do the delivering. I can't do it, Seon Joon is an incompetent -"

"Excuse me?" Yoon Shik and Seon Joon said at the same time.

"- and you want Yoon Shik to stay in the shop," Yong Ha finished smoothly. "That leaves you. Conveniently, you're also the only one of us who actually owns a car."

"You have a car," Jae Shin protested weakly, knowing full well that he'd already lost. "That... that Tico? Is it a Tico?"

"That was my oldest brother's car." Yong Ha licked chocolate from the corner of his mouth. "And anyway the twins already commandeered it for their own dire purposes halfway into my conscription. I couldn't pry it away from them even if I wanted to."

"The twins." Jesus Christ. Was it possible for Yong Ha to consume anything without having to lick some of it off himself at some later point? It was obnoxious. And distracting. Jae Shin blinked and glanced back up to look Yong Ha in the eye. "The twins?"

On the other side of the table, Yoon Shik and Seon Joon looked at each other. Their expressions didn't change in any noticeable way. They didn't blink a message in morse code, or wiggle their eyebrows, or even smile just a tiny bit. They just slowly turned their heads to look at each other at the exact same time, each knowing precisely what the other was thinking.

"The twins," Yong Ha repeated, slowly, as if speaking to a small child. "My twin older brothers. Two of four. Anyway, back to my main point: you have a car, while all of us do not. You are not a vital part of the daily workings of this shop, while two of the three of us are. Seon Joon, as previously stated, is an incompetent and should not be counted."

"We live in Seoul," Yoon Shik protested. "There's no reason for him to have a driver's license."

"How am I not a vital part of the daily workings of this shop?" Jae Shin leaned toward Yong Ha, a dangerous look on his face. "Did you forget the part where I own this place?"

Yong Ha looked up at him over his glasses. Arched an eyebrow. "You're a vital part of the monthly workings of this shop, certainly," he conceded, nodding his head placatingly. "Weekly, even. But if you're not here for half an hour nothing catches on fire. No customers riot. The cake gets baked, the mochas get made, and Seon Joon, well..." He glanced at Seon Joon out of the corner of his eye, then inclined his head as if making an embarrassing confession. "... he's new, he'll figure out his niche soon."

Jae Shin opened his mouth to argue, but couldn't think of what to say, so instead he just closed his mouth and steamed. Yong Ha sighed. Stuck the pad of his thumb between his lips and then reached out, scrubbing a tiny smudge of newsprint ink off Jae Shin's cheekbone. "Stop it," Jae Shin said, batting his hand away. "So that's it, then? Majority rules?"

"I just have to make a menu," Yong Ha said, hand still suspended in the air. He grinned and raised his mug. "I really like it when 'majority rules' means I win."

"Right," Jae Shin said, collecting the newspapers and standing up. "Because you, of all people, need a majority to win."

  
"Okay, so obviously bûche de Noël is going on the menu," Yong Ha said, scratching his head with the blunt end of the ball point pen in his hand. "Nougat blanc, nougat noir. Pain d'Epices? Pompe à l'huile is one of my favorites, but I don't know how well it would go down with our customer base."

"I don't know what any of those are," Yoon Shik admitted after a moment, glancing up from the sheet of paper laid out in front of them on the butcher block counter. His mouth was full, a half-eaten slice of opera cake in his hand.

Yong Ha sighed and made a face. "I'm surrounded by uncultured swine, aren't I? They're traditional French Christmas desserts. As this is a French bakery, and we are creating a special Christmas menu."

"The 'Noël' sort of gave me a clue there." Yoon Shik scratched the bridge of his nose thoughtfully and took another bite of cake. "But nougat noir? Doesn't 'noir' mean 'black?'"

"Nougat blanc and nougat noir - you have to make them together," Seon Joon cut in. "They represent good and evil. It's a tradition specific to the region of Provence."

Yong Ha pointed the blunt end of the pen at Seon Joon, an expression of surprised approval on his face. "Ten points, to the man without a driver's license!"

Yoon Shik rolled his eyes and pulled the sheet of paper closer so he could see the list. "Anything else? There's really only three or four things on here, fewer if you count both nougats as one thing together."

"That's it for super traditional French pastries," Yong Ha said, leaning back and stretching. "We'll do some other things as well, though. Cranberry tarts, maybe. Red and green macarons. I don't know. Something fun."

"Peppermint mochas," Yoon Shik said.

"There's that chain coffee shop barista coming through," Yong Ha said. Yoon Shik opened his mouth to protest but Yong Ha held up a hand. "Don't argue. You know it's true. And anyway peppermint mochas are a great idea -" he flipped the pen into Yoon Shik's hands as he backed away from the counter, toward the back door "- write it down on the list."

"Where are you going?" Seon Joon called after him.

"Phone call," Yong Ha said, and took his cell phone out of his pocket, holding it up and waggling it in the air by way of illustration. The screen was lit up, the phone buzzing rhythmically. "You two brainstorm some more, but better do it in the front. The boss is sulking in the attic by now and there's no one to watch the case."

The door closed behind him and already he was regretting not grabbing a coat. It had stopped raining but the temperature couldn't have been over 8C, maybe 9 tops, and while his chef coat was made of thick fabric it was designed to keep him cool in a hot kitchen, not hot in a cool world. He tucked his right hand under his arm and peered down at the screen, eyebrows knitting together in confusion before sliding the Answer button over the screen.

"Mom," he said into the phone. "Everything okay?"

"Yong Ha, thank god," came Eom Hae Sook's voice out of the phone speaker. She sounded somehow agitated and relieved at the same time, her voice shaking, the words coming out of her mouth too quickly. "Is Jae Shin with you?"

Despite himself, he glanced over his shoulder at the attic window over the kitchen. It was only 3:00 pm so he couldn't tell if the light was on up there, but he'd seen Jae Shin go up the stairs only half an hour ago. He was probably still up there. "Not right next to me, no," Yong Ha said. "But I can probably be next to him in a couple of minutes. Is everything okay?"

"Yes," Hae Sook said, then hesitated. If he closed his eyes he could almost see the way she twisted her fingers when she was nervous. "Kind of. No."

Shit. "No?"

"I mean," Hae Sook stuttered, "things are okay at home. But not everything, not everywhere. Could you get him? I called him three times and I think his phone is off or - or something, I can't reach him, please -"

"It's fine, mom," Yong Ha said, yanking at the door knob to the back door. He'd never heard her like this, not once. Not ever. He'd seen her nervous, he'd seen her worried, even when he was thirteen years old he'd noticed that look of quiet, barely suppressed panic in her face whenever Jae Shin left the house with him - but never like this. Never this bad. "I'm going right now, it's okay."

Yoon Shik and Seon Joon looked up as he came back into the kitchen, phone to his ear. Seon Joon opened his mouth to say something but Yong Ha just held up a hand and walked, almost ran to the door leading to the front. "Are you okay?" he said into the phone. "Do you need me to come over? It's fine, I can -"

"No, it's fine, just get Jae Shin please."

He hit the door with his left shoulder and saw stars for a second, that old familiar ache changing into a knife running over his nerves, but didn't slow down. Someone was coming in the front door and the kids were still in the back - "Incoming," he yelled over his shoulder - but he didn't even look at them, he just went straight for the door leading to the attic. Took the steps two at a time. Opened the door. "Shin -"

Yong Ha hadn't been up here since Jae Shin had cleaned it up enough to convert it into a makeshift office and his head was still spinning from the pain in his shoulder, so he stumbled over the threshold and gasped for breath, trying to get his bearings.

"Jesus, what?" Jae Shin was looking up at him from his spot behind the desk, by the window looking out onto the alley behind the bakery. His laptop was open in front of him and the top of the desk was scattered with sheets of paper.

Yong Ha gulped a breath and held out his phone. "It's your mom," he managed. "Couldn't reach you. Your phone's off."

"My phone's not -" Jae Shin scrambled for his cell phone, tried bringing up the lock screen. Nothing. "Shit. Battery died." He shot up out of his chair, dodged around the desk, already holding out his hand for Yong Ha's phone. "Is everything okay?"

"Maybe?" Yong Ha hazarded, letting his phone drop into Jae Shin's open palm. He staggered backwards a couple of steps and leaned on the arm of an old arm chair that had somehow survived the great attic purge. Bent over, cradled his left arm, closed his eyes and tried to breathe.

But Jae Shin wasn't looking at him now, wasn't paying any attention to him at all. "Mom, I'm really sorry, my battery -"

And then went quiet.

Yong Ha opened one of his eyes and looked up at Jae Shin blearily. Even through fogged up glasses, pain-blurred vision, he could see that all the blood had drained out of his face.

"No," Jae Shin said. "No, I'm not. I haven't been," he said quickly, as if correcting himself. "I know that back in July -" He turned away from Yong Ha, put a hand on his forehead. Walked back to the desk and leaned his weight against it. "No. I don't know. Yeah, I'm... Mom, I'm fine. I'm fine. Mom... okay."

"Is everything okay?" Yong Ha whispered, the searing cold in his shoulder subsiding slowly back into the low, constant throb of his heartbeat against the knot in the joint.

Jae Shin turned his head - not enough to look at him, just enough to acknowledge what he'd said - and sighed into the phone. "Yes, I'll be careful," he said. "You don't have to worry. Mom, don't - okay. I'll plug in my phone right now. I'm sorry I let the battery die. I have to give the phone back, Mom. Mom. Mom, I just said that I'd -" He sat down on the edge of the desk and bent over. Scrubbed at one eye with the heel of his palm. "I love you too. I'll be home in an hour."

Then he hung up the call. Stared at the phone for a second. Grabbed his own phone from the desk and slipped it into his pocket, grabbed his big wool coat from the rack next to the door, checked the pockets for his wallet, keys. "I have to go," he said, dropping the phone back into Yong Ha's hand and shouldering into the coat. "I'll try to be back to lock up, but -"

"It's fine," Yong Ha said, standing up. "I have keys. Just text me or something if you're not going to be back in time. I'll take care of it." He took a step forward, his left arm still tucked against his side. "Is everything...?"

"Everything's fine," Jae Shin said, buttoning the coat up. "Don't worry about it. It's fine."

"It didn't sound like everything was fine." Yong Ha knew he shouldn't press, but he couldn't stop the words from coming out of his mouth.

Jae Shin stared at him, as if seeing him for the first time. Then he laughed - a short, quick cough of something that couldn't rightly be called amusement. "I guess not," he said, and then he was gone: down the stairs, into the bakery, out the door.

The room was empty. Jae Shin's laptop was still open. The light was still on. His coffee cup was still steaming on the desk. It was like a still life painting, the kind of thing Yong Ha didn't really care for. He'd never been able to see the point. But here, like this, it was a snapshot of something that he couldn't quite put his finger on.

He rubbed his face and tried not to think too hard about what on earth might be going on. It was none of his business, right? It was none of his business. But when had that ever stopped him? He was Gu Yong Ha. If there was a secret he'd be able to figure it out. He knew how to ask, how to track down the right person for the asking, and even with only a few small pieces of information he could -

But god, the look on Jae Shin's face. The sound in Hae Sook's voice. Yong Ha looked out the window, not seeing anything. He wasn't going to look into this one.

He stood up. Moved to the desk, closed the laptop with a click. Picked up the still-full coffee cup. Flipped off the light.

In the bakery, Yoon Shik was watching the attic door owlishly when he finally descended. "What," Yong Ha said.

"Is everything okay?" Yoon Shik mumbled, twisting his hands together. "You were - I mean, when you were on the phone... and then the boss, he... It just doesn't seem like everything is okay," he finished stupidly.

Yong Ha tried to smile reassuringly but knew that it didn't come out looking so good. He reached over the coffee bar and poured Jae Shin's coffee into the sink. "Honestly?" He shrugged. "I couldn't tell you. Something with the boss and his mom. He doesn't tell me much. We're not that close."

Yoon Shik eyeballed him skeptically. "Oh. You're not that close."

"No, we're -" But his phone was buzzing in his pocket again. He scrambled for it, nearly dropped it on the floor, answered it before he even had a chance to look at the name on the front screen. "Hello?"

"Yong Ha, it's me. Are you okay? Your voice sounds off."

Yong Ha sighed a breath and laid his head down on the cool marble top of the coffee bar. It was his mother. His, not Jae Shin's. "Mom. I'm fine. It's been a weird day. What's up?"

Silence on the line, then: "Have you talked to Jae Shin? I mean recently. Today. In the last half hour, maybe."

Yong Ha glanced up at the big clock hanging on the wall over the display case. "Yeah. I mean... kind of. His mom called me because his phone was off. He just left. Why? Do you... I mean, is there something I should know?"

"No." This came quick. Too quick. "There's nothing, not really. I know that's a terrible answer, baby. I'm sorry. Just, Yong Ha, listen -"

"Yeah?"

"Just stay close to Jae Shin, all right? Just for the next couple of weeks."

Yoon Shik was staring at him with big eyes, so he turned away. Put a hand to his face. Talked quieter into the phone. "Why? Is something going on? Is he going to have to - I don't know - protect me from something?"

"God, no. Nothing like that. Just keep an eye on him. Don't let him be alone too much, just for a couple of weeks. I know how this sounds, baby, and I'm sorry."

The bell over the door clonked. Somebody was coming in. Yong Ha pushed through the swinging door into the kitchen - to hide, to freak out, to something, something, something. "Is he okay? Is Jae Shin okay?" Even with everything, even after everything, he was still Jae Shin. He had to be okay. He had to be.

"I think it has something to do with his brother, or... I don't know. I don't know all the details."

"But Jae Shin doesn't have -" And stopped, knowing that wasn't right. He'd heard the name, once or twice. He'd wondered about the door that never opened at the top of Eom Hae Sook's spotless staircase. "Young Shin? But he died. Like... twenty years ago or something."

"Yes," came his mother's voice. "Almost exactly twenty years ago."

  
When Jae Shin opened the door to his mother's house, the first thing he did was count the shoes in the entryway. Maybe it was terrible of him, but if his father was at home he knew he wouldn't be able to stay long so he checked every time. But there were no black, polished leather dress shoes on the white tile floor, and his father's house slippers sat on the floor next to the wall.

Jae Shin sighed. Closed his eyes. Shut the door behind him, leaned against it, waited for the little electric song that told him that the lock was armed.

The house was dark, which was weird. His mother wasn't in the kitchen, in the living room. He wandered through the house, shuffling in too-small slippers - until he walked by the staircase and heard the sound of the tv filtering down from above.

She was in her bedroom. The light was off but her face was lit up by the television. When Jae Shin pushed the door open, she looked up. "They found another body," she said. "It's happening again."

"Mom." There wasn't anything he could say to bring her out of this. He already knew it. He'd seen this before, too many times, and the only thing for it was distraction and time. "Mom, it's been over for twenty years. This body isn't -"

"It's the same MO," she interrupted, turning back to look at the television. "They never caught the bastard and now they've found another body." She twisted her hands in the blankets. "This one was eleven years old. Went missing in July."

He sat down next to her on the bed. Took one of her hands in his own. "I know," he said, his voice quiet. "I remember seeing it on the news." He'd been on the phone (with Yong Ha, of all people) and had turned off the tv.

"If Young Shin hadn't - if anything were to happen to you -" But now she was crying, bent over almost double.

Jae Shin took the remote out of her hand. Clicked off the tv, leaving them in the dark. "Mom," he said quietly into the darkness. "Mom. It's over. It's been over for twenty years."


	10. Stay Close

It was midnight - past midnight, actually, almost two o'clock in the morning - and Jae Shin was alone in the bakery. The streetlights outside the big picture windows at the front of the shop glowed a sort of greeny yellow on the soaking wet street. It was raining: the kind of rain that doesn't seem to know what it's doing, exactly, so it comes and goes in fits and bursts, one minute pounding the pavement like a million tiny hammers and the next doing its best impression of fog.

Yoon Shik had gone home at eight o'clock and Jae Shin had come in at ten to relieve Seon Joon, who went home at 10:30. Now he was alone, and the shop was empty, and he was dangerously close to dozing off behind the display case.

"You know," echoed a voice out of nowhere, "Yoon Shik has really girly handwriting."

Sort of alone. Not really alone. Jae Shin came out from behind the display case and walked around the little wall that had prevented him from seeing Yong Ha this whole time. "What the hell are you doing here? It's midnight. It's past midnight."

"I'm serious," Yong Ha said, leaning over the sheet of paper that he'd been working on with Yoon Shik and Seon Joon the week before, putting together a Christmas menu. "I'm almost surprised he doesn't draw his ieung as little hearts."

"You were off at five," Jae Shin said. He pulled out the chair across the table from Yong Ha and sat down. "Go home. Get some sleep."

Yong Ha looked up and grinned. "Nah, I'm good. Burning the midnight oil, you know? Maybe more literally than usual," he conceded. He reached out and caught Jae Shin's wrist in his hand. Pulled it upward. Peered at the watch with narrowed eyes and arched his eyebrows, whistling a long descending note. "Wow. Definitely more literally than usual."

"Stop it." Jae Shin yanked his wrist out of Yong Ha's grasp. "Buy your own watch. Are you going to answer me?"

"Did you ask me something?"

"Only what the hell you're doing here." Jae Shin stuck his hands in his pockets and leaned back in his chair, sighing. "I'm serious. Your shift ended eight, almost nine hours ago. Please tell me that you left for at least part of that time. Went and took a nap or something, I don't know."

"Don't you ever get lonely here at night?"

"What kind of answer is that?"

Yong Ha pursed his lips thoughtfully. "Are we playing questions?"

"No," Jae Shin said firmly. "We are not. So you didn't go home?"

Yong Ha shrugged with his right shoulder. "Yeah, I did. But it's not very interesting hanging out there by myself. I'm used to having company, but I've been working so much that I haven't had the chance to find any." He smiled affectionately and propped his chin on his hand. "So I went out to find some."

"I'm not your usual sort of company," Jae Shin said. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back to rest on the back of the chair. "Not curvy enough. Too fully clothed."

"Don't sell yourself short." Yong Ha looked back down at the sheet of paper, adjusting his glasses. "You're plenty curvy. And the whole clothing thing is easily fixed."

Jae Shin lifted his head up again and fixed Yong Ha with a glare, trying to gauge how much of that was a joke. "... Plenty curvy?"

"You know," Yong Ha said, glancing up at him over his glasses. "Muscles and stuff. They have curves, right? Plus if you ever even tried my cake I'm sure you'd find that you soon fill out nicely." He scrubbed his face with both hands. "Do you seriously stay here until two o'clock in the morning every single day?"

"Not Mondays," Jae Shin replied. "Although I suppose it's Tuesday by then. If you're tired you can just go home."

"No," Yong Ha said quickly, looking up. The look on his face was closer to panic than Jae Shin had seen in a long time, but it was gone in a fraction of a second. "No," he said again, calmer this time. He looked down at the sheet of paper and bit his lip. "We're almost to the end of November. If I don't get this thing finalized by the end of the week we'll be screwed."

"Maybe," Jae Shin mumbled, and leaned forward. Rested his chin on his palm and watched Yong Ha work.

For a few minutes the only sound was the noise Yong Ha's pen made on the paper as he made notes in the margins, added lines to the list, scratched things out and wrote something else in their stead. "I'm technically your boss," Jae Shin said, realizing he'd been watching Yong Ha do almost nothing for way too long. "I can just... tell you to go home."

"As nice as it is to hear you admit that you are, in fact, my boss," Yong Ha shot back, not looking up from the sheet of paper, "and therefore have absolutely no right to protest when I call you my boss, no. You cannot just tell me to go home."

"You couldn't beat me in a fight."

"You wouldn't want to fight me."

Well. Okay. Yong Ha had him there. Jae Shin could think of a very large number of things that he'd rather do before engaging in a physical altercation with Gu Yong Ha. The fight itself would be over in minutes, seconds even, but the subsequent psychological torture would be severe and unending. Yong Ha was almost as formidable an automated guilt machine as Jae Shin's own mother.

"Look," Jae Shin said, rubbing a hand over his face. "I'm almost done here. Will you at least go home before I have to lock up?"

"See, about that." Yong Ha had the decency to look almost embarrassed. "You know how it's Sunday? I'm pretty sure the last train has already left. Could I...?"

Of course. Of course. Of course it was Sunday, of course the last train had already come and gone. Jae Shin almost told Yong Ha to just walk home, for the love of god, but instead he looked over his shoulder out the window. It was raining - still, more, again - and Yong Ha was like a cat in the rain. Damp, obviously, but mostly furious and miserable. He'd never hear the end of it. "You're lucky the shop is closed tomorrow and you don't have to work in the morning," he muttered. "Fine. Fine. Just give me twenty minutes to close up shop and I'll give you a ride home."

Yong Ha grinned at him and (god, really?) winked coquettishly. "Such a gentleman."

"Shut up and find your coat."

Maybe he should have done things more thoroughly. Maybe he should have counted the money in the cash drawer more carefully. Maybe he should have actually mopped the floor instead of glaring at it for 20 seconds and mulishly deciding that it was fine, autumn leaves in the corners be damned. But Yong Ha was standing by the front door in his thick wool coat, scarf around his mouth and tucked into the collar, one hand in his pocket and the other holding his phone.

He wasn't being impatient - he was reading something on the screen, (the light of it reflecting off his glasses), not paying any attention to Jae Shin at all. Just waiting quietly. Not grousing. Not complaining. Not making a sound. He just scrolled and chewed his lip and waited.

It was weird, and Jae Shin didn't like it. Yong Ha never waited for anything without complaint. It wasn't how the world was supposed to work. He was supposed to bitch about every little inconvenience as if his life depended on it. Despite himself, Jae Shin couldn't help but keep all but the tiniest fraction of his attention on Yong Ha; like somehow his silence had grown into some great, invisible beast that filled up the bakery and pushed out everything else that might be important.

"Hey," he said.

Yong Ha blinked and looked up. "Nn?"

Jae Shin grabbed his coat off the rack and shouldered into it, buttoning just one of the buttons over his diaphragm before digging in his pocket for the keys. "Do you have a hood? An umbrella?"

Yong Ha made a face - that thing he did where he scrunched up his nose and twisted his mouth - and shook his head. "Messes with the silhouette of the coat. Wouldn't be caught dead with a fucked up silhouette." He paused, the hand holding his phone already halfway into his pocket. "Why? Do you have an umbrella?"

"Yes," Jae Shin said, pulling a black umbrella out of the stand. "Because I'm not a vain idiot."

"Ah, good," Yong Ha sighed happily, stepping in so he was only inches away from Jae Shin. Slipped his hand around Jae Shin's elbow. "I really, really hate getting wet."

"I know," Jae Shin said, and hated himself for it.

  
"This thing is ridiculous."

"What are you doing? Stop playing with the seat controls."

Yong Ha ignored Jae Shin completely and turned the dial on the dashboard in front of him all the way from 1 to 6. "Is this...? You have a seat warmer. This is the best day of my life. Boss, you should give me a ride home every single day."

"I'm not going to do that," Jae Shin growled, reaching over and turning the dial back down to 3. "And trust me, you'd regret turning that up to 6."

"Too hot?"

"You'd go sterile."

"I'm not planning on having kids anyway," Yong Ha mused, extending a hand out toward the dashboard again. "So maybe 4?"

Jae Shin turned on the windshield wipers and sat back in the driver's seat. "Put your address into the navigator, will you? I'm tired."

Yong Ha leaned forward and adjusted his glasses, peering at the little touch screen. "Everything you own is fancy as hell. I'm embarrassed to let you see my apartment."

"I'm not going to go in, I'm just dropping you off. Are you done?"

"Yeah, yeah." Yong Ha leaned his head back and looked out the window, at the rain running in streams down the glass. "Hey, Shin."

Jae Shin shifted the car out of park. "What?"

Yong Ha didn't look at him. Didn't turn his head, didn't move his eyes. Just watched the rain, and the street, and the street lamps in the dark. "What happened with your brother?"

There was quiet for a few minutes. Then: "He died."

Yong Ha turned his head then, shot him a sarcastic glare. "I've sort of figured that one out. I mean... what happened? What really happened?"

He didn't owe Yong Ha anything. He didn't owe Yong Ha a damn thing. His brother's death was - "It was twenty years ago. I don't remember it." That at least wasn't a lie. Right? It wasn't. (Sure, sometimes he'd wake up in the morning with the memory of... of _something_ burned into his head, but he could never hold onto it. He never wanted to hold onto it.)

"And nobody ever told you?"

"He was murdered." The car slowed as they pulled up to a red light, and the rain seemed to calm down a little. "I know that much."

"Oh," Yong Ha said in a small voice. Jae Shin could feel Yong Ha watching his face, but couldn't make himself look back at him. "Are you-"

"Am I what?"

"... Are you okay?"

"It was twenty years ago," Jae Shin said again.

"I guess," Yong Ha said, and didn't say anything else.


	11. The Boy Who Came Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stand back, everyone. I'm going to attempt... plot.

Most bakeries open early in the morning, when people are on their way to work and in need of some caffeine, breakfast, something warm. Across Seoul, cafes and bakeries of all sorts turned their lights on, unlocked their front doors, flipped around the sign in the window, put out sandwich boards, all before 7 o'clock in the morning.

At Vintage, Moon Jae Shin's seven month old harebrained idea, the back door unlocked at 8 o'clock in the morning.

Well, it was supposed to, anyway. Of course, that was only if Gu Yong Ha managed not to forget his keys.

"Shit," he hissed through his teeth, patting himself desperately - breast pockets, front pockets, jean pockets, back pockets.

He dug his wallet out of the inner pocket of his jacket and set it on one of the trash cans outside the back door, not giving a damn how gross it was. The cell phone came out, a wad of receipts from the club, a couple of pens that had ended up in his jacket pocket somehow. A box of matches, two wrinkled business cards, a half teaspoon measure for some ungodly reason. By the time the contents of his shoulder bag were scattered across the ground it occurred to him that he knew exactly where his keys were. They were safe, of course - hanging on the little row of hooks just inside the door of his apartment.

He squeezed his eyes shut tight and rubbed a hand over his face. Going back home to get them and then coming all the way back would take nearly an hour, but neither Yoon Shik nor Seon Joon had keys and Jae Shin... well. Jae Shin. Deliveries had started up the previous week and while they'd started slow they'd started picking up fast. For the last several days Jae Shin had come in at 11:30 in the morning and then wouldn't spend more than thirty minutes at a time inside the bakery until taking over from Seon Joon at ten o'clock to close the shop by two o'clock in the morning. If there was any justice in the world Jae Shin was still asleep.

Even a sleeping Jae Shin could be to Vintage to open up in less time than it would take Yong Ha to go home and back.

"Fuck." He picked up his cell phone.

The phone rang once. Twice. Three times.

Yong Ha's speaker crackled. "What," Jae Shin growled at the other end of the line, voice half muffled. His voice had that gravelly, throaty quality it had immediately after he woke up. "What the fuck do you want."

"Don't hate me," Yong Ha stammered quickly, unconsciously bringing his closed fist to his mouth - a nervous tic he'd started doing as a joke years ago but which had somehow worked its way into his repertoire of naturally-occurring habits. (Hell, but he'd forgotten how fucking amazing Jae Shin's voice sounded in the morning.) "I forgot my keys."

Silence. Yong Ha could almost hear the gears in Jae Shin's head creaking and stuttering into motion. "So?"

"So I can't get into the damn bakery." Yong Ha leaned over and picked up a scrap of paper, a bit of detritus left over from his frantic search for his keys. "I'd go back home and get them but it'd take ages, and - I mean - you've seen the delivery schedule for the week, and that on top of everything else that I have to get done, it's -"

"You need me to open the door?"

"... Yeah." Yong Ha couldn't help himself from rolling his eyes. "I know you're exhausted, believe me, but -"

"Just give me a second, all right?" The unmistakable sound of the cell phone being set down on a hard surface. A few half-hearted thumps in the distance. Silence.

Yong Ha twisted his mouth as he waited. "Jae Shin?"

A rustling noise. "You still there?" Somehow he sounded a little breathless, his voice losing a little of the gravel.

"Yeah, I'm here. Are you coming? It's fucking freezing out here. Should I go get a cup of coffee and wait, or...?"

"What part of 'give me a second' do you not get? Don't go anywhere."

Yong Ha opened his mouth to say something rude but the cell phone beeped in his ear as the call ended. He glared at it. What the hell gave Moon Jae Shin, of all people, the idea that he could hang up on him? He did a few quick calculations in his head. He'd been to Jae Shin's apartment a couple of times (well, once, but he'd had to find his way to work afterward) and it took about twenty minutes by public transit from there to the bakery. So by car it would take, what - five? Ten? He turned on his heel, chewing thoughtfully on his thumb.

Well, fuck. Jae Shin's car was right there. Somehow he hadn't noticed when he'd walked up, but that was definitely Jae Shin's car. Twenty minutes, then. Longer, if Jae Shin was as dead tired as he sounded over the phone.

"Liar," he muttered at the car.

Behind him, the door to the bakery swung open. "Excuse me?"

And Jae Shin was hanging out of the door, propping himself up on the door frame with one elbow. He looked exhausted - beyond exhausted - but he was awake and upright and opening the door for him.

"Uh," Yong Ha said. Jae Shin looked exhausted, sure, but mostly he looked... not very dressed, was maybe the best way of putting it. He was wearing clothes, but they weren't so much "clothes" as "hastily thrown on pajamas." His thin t-shirt was somehow both backwards and inside out, his pajama pants were loose around his hips. Wow. His hips. Did they still make hips like that anymore? Were they legal? Were muscles supposed to do that?

More importantly: was Jae Shin wearing underwear?

"Are you going to come in or not?" Jae Shin ran a hand through his hair and gave him a slow, heavy-lidded blink. "It's freezing."

"It is?" Yong Ha blinked. "I mean, yeah. Yeah, it is." He shivered and wrapped his arms around himself dramatically. "Shit, what are you doing standing in the door? Let me through, will you?"

Jae Shin rolled his eyes and took a step backward, swinging a hand out and around in one big sarcastic welcoming gesture. "All yours. Just come in quick, all the heat's going out."

Yong Ha shoved past him, caught in an internal struggle over whether it would be better to avoid touching Jae Shin or to try as hard as he could to brush past as nonchalantly as possible. His nerves won, and he stepped by without making contact. "Did you even go home last night?"

Jae Shin closed the door. Leaned against it. Rubbed his eye with the heel of his palm. "No, I -" He yawned hugely into the crook of his elbow. "- I was pretty sick of driving."

Yong Ha turned to look at him - the straps of his shoulder bag in his right fist, the collar of the chef coat in his left - and twisted his mouth. "Where did you sleep?" He seemed to consider this for a moment. "Maybe I don't want to know."

"Oh, grow up. This place used to be a house, remember?" Jae Shin pushed off the door and strode past Yong Ha toward the front of the bakery. "I'm going to go take a shower."

"You can go back to bed," Yong Ha called after him, pulling the chef coat over his chest and fastening the first of many buttons. "Don't get up on my account."

But Jae Shin was already gone. Probably a good thing, really - he hadn't been wearing any shoes or socks, and the kitchen was no place for bare feet. Yong Ha flipped the dials on the bank of ovens and rubbed a hand over his face.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. He kept waiting to fall out of love with Jae Shin but god - it was never going to happen, was it?

  
"10,000 won," Seon Joon said under his breath. Unless you were standing very, very close to him (and listening for it) you wouldn't have heard anything at all. He stood over the sink behind the coffee bar, arms buried in hot water and soapy foam up to the elbow.

Yoon Shik was standing very, very close to him (and listening), leaning in to drop a few errant milk pitchers into the lather. "Oh please," he whispered back. "You're such a cautious gambler. 20,000 won or no bet."

"Twenty thousand...!" He stopped washing the spoon in his hand and glared down at Yoon Shik. "20,000 won? Are you serious? This isn't -"

"20,000," Yoon Shik repeated, grinning up at him impishly and flicking a dollop of foam up into his face, "or no bet."

Seon Joon blew the foam away from his face. "Fine. 20,000 won."

"Stop flirting, you two." Yong Ha edged past them, hands busy with a tray stacked high with new fodder for the display case. "If you get soap on this I'll have the boss flay you alive and use your skins for cheesecloth. Yoon Shik - clear a space, would you? My left arm is about ready to fall off."

"We were not flirting," Seon Joon sputtered.

"I don't think Seon Joon knows how to flirt," Yoon Shik added sweetly, clearing a spot on the counter with a sweep of his arm. "I'll open up the case."

"Just the back, thanks," Yong Ha said, pointedly ignoring the expression of baffled fury writ large on Seon Joon's face. He dropped onto one knee and peered into the case, whistling a long descending note and shaking his head. "Jesus, it's been crazy. I could've sworn I was making too much this morning, but fuck me if we're not almost out already."

"Mm, no thanks," Yoon Shik replied smoothly. "What do you want first?"

"Better go with the tarts first. First in, first out." Yong Ha shot a skeptical glance over his shoulder at Seon Joon, who was still busy steaming at the sink. "Yoon Shik is pretty clever, you know that? You don't deserve him." He flashed a wink up at Yoon Shik. "If you ever get sick of flirting with that sea cucumber, you know where I'll be."

"Sea cucumber?" Seon Joon sputtered.

"You think he'd vomit up his entrails if he found himself in danger?" Yong Ha asked Yoon Shik in an exaggerated stage whisper.

"Definitely not," Yoon Shik replied. "Whatever the danger, he'd just talk it to death."

"Yeah? Sounds like ideal husband material." Yong Ha gave Seon Joon a longer appraising look. "Gonna have to come up with a more fitting nickname for you, cucumber."

The attic door swung open and they all turned in unison.

"Good morning, mutants," Jae Shin said, stepping out into the bakery like he owned the place. (Which he did. So it was fitting, really.) He was rolling his sleeves back down from where they'd been folded to his elbow. "I have good news and bad news. Which do you want first?"

"Good news," Yoon Shik said, at almost the exact same time as Seon Joon said: "Bad news."

Jae Shin and Yong Ha shared a look, matching each other's expressions right down to the raised eyebrow. "Seon Joon chose first," Jae Shin said. "Barely. The bad news is this whole place has to be absolutely spotless sometime between now and -" he flipped his wrist up to glare at his watch "- mm, call it ten minutes from now."

"What?" Yong Ha looked down at the tray of cake, at the nearly empty display case. "You're serious? Ten minutes?"

"We can do it," Yoon Shik said firmly, touching Yong Ha's elbow reassuringly. "You refill the case, Seon Joon and I will cover the rest."

Seon Joon grimaced. "What's the good news?"

"The good news," Jae Shin started to say, but paused, struggling with the buttons on his cuff. "Fuck. God damn it. Hold on a second."

Yong Ha rolled his eyes. "Jesus, Shin, you're so useless. Come over here."

Jae Shin stepped forward without hesitation, holding his wrists out to Yong Ha as if it were what he'd done every day of his life. Yong Ha adjusted his glasses and bent over slightly to deal with the cuffs.

"30,000 won," Seon Joon murmured to Yoon Shik.

Yoon Shik's face went hard as he watched Jae Shin watch Yong Ha button his cuffs. "Fine," he replied through clenched teeth.

Yong Ha straightened up, pulling on Jae Shin's cuffs to try to straighten out the wrinkles left over from when they'd been rolled up. "There. Now tell the kids your good news."

"Man, it doesn't sound that good when I give the bad news first," Jae Shin said, making a face. "Look, my mother's coming to the shop to visit, and -"

"Holy shit!" Yong Ha threw his hands in the air. "Mom's coming?! Why the hell didn't you tell me?"

(Seon Joon leaned over to Yoon Shik, opening his mouth. "I know," Yoon Shik hissed at him. "40,000. You're such a vulture.")

"- And she's bringing my grandmother with her," Jae Shin continued, glaring at Yong Ha, who wilted a little. "So the place needs to be clean and everyone -" this seemed to be particularly directed at Yong Ha "- needs to be on their best behavior."

"Um, excuse me. I am always on my best behavior."

"So you see why I'm concerned," Jae Shin said. "Come on, you know what my mom's house looks like. This place needs to... okay, not meet her standards, but she has to at least not be afraid to eat what comes out of the kitchen."

"You could use my kitchen as a surgical theater," Yong Ha protested. "I mean I don't know why you'd want to, confectioner's sugar gets everywhere and it'd be hell scrubbing that out of an incision, but -"

"Please just stop." Jae Shin held up a hand. "Refill the case, but do it fast. She's going to want to see you, and you need to change your apron. Actually you need to just change everything. Do you roll around in chocolate back there?" He clapped his hands. "Okay! Seon Joon, finish up what you're doing and then make sure all the open tables are completely cleaned up. Yoon Shik, clean up the coffee, um... the coffee area? and then wipe down every surface you can see from the other side of the counter."

Yong Ha cocked his head. "What are you going to do?"

"Me?" Jae Shin looked at him. "Everything."

By the time the door of the bakery opened and Eom Hae Sook stepped over the threshold, the case was full. The counters were shining. Every table was clear. Yong Ha looked as though he'd barely rolled in any chocolate at all.

"Mom," Jae Shin said, and it was like his face changed from the inside out - going from his default glower to something almost alarming in its sunniness. Yoon Shik and Seon Joon shot each other wide-eyed glances, and Yong Ha just sighed and rolled his eyes. "How are you?"

"Jae Shin," his mother said, holding out her arm for her own mother to grab hold of. "You need to fix that bell."

Jae Shin looked up at the old, dented brass bell over the door. "Yeah," he said. "I keep meaning to do that."

  
"What's going on here?" Yoon Shik hissed under his breath at Yong Ha as they bent over two small trays of cake and pastries they were putting together for Jae Shin's mother.

"Let me know if you figure it out," Yong Ha mumbled back, nudging a small plate to the side to make room for another. "He's always been like this with his mother."

"Mama's boy," Yoon Shik murmured decisively, nodding his head as if he'd worked out the mystery once and for all.

Yong Ha pursed his lips thoughtfully. "Mm, not that simple. Come on, stop hypothesizing about your boss's filial piety and help me with these, will you?" Yoon Shik sighed and picked up one of the two trays, throwing Seon Joon a look. Seon Joon just shrugged, as if to say Better You Than Me. "What did I tell you two about flirting? Hurry up, kid."

When they reached the table and set the trays down, Yong Ha leaned down alongside Jae Shin. "Aren't you glad I taught you all about cake?" he breathed in Jae Shin's ear. "Good luck with this one, boss."

Jae Shin just grinned at his mother, acting as though Yong Ha hadn't said anything to him at all. "Ah, all right," he said, moving his arm to gesture at the trays and (purely coincidentally) elbowing Yong Ha in the stomach. "Mont blanc, génoise with ginger mousse and whipped cream, and - this one is so pretty it reminds me of you, Grandma -" Yong Ha leaned in close to Yoon Shik's ear and made a quiet gagging noise in the back of his throat "- coconut bavarois with raspberry puree."

Eom Hae Sook beamed, first at her son, then up at Yong Ha. "See? I knew this was a good idea. This looks lovely, boys. Jae Shin, the bakery is wonderful." She looked up at Yoon Shik, standing nervously next to Yong Ha, behind Jae Shin, his mouth tight and hands twisted together. "I'm sure you know how easy-going Jae Shin is. He's a good kid. An innocent bookworm."

Yoon Shik just goggled at her. "Uh..." Yong Ha tugged on Yoon Shik's apron strings behind his back as a mode of silent, undetectable communication. "I mean yes. Yes. Exactly." He knit his eyebrows together and gave Yong Ha a look out of the corner of his eye that was half confused, half scared. "Easy-going."

"This has been lovely," Yong Ha said quickly, grabbing Yoon Shik by the elbow and insistently pulling him backwards, away from the table. "But we really need to get back to work. The lattes don't make themselves, you know!"

Hae Sook turned to Jae Shin once they'd left and grinned at him. "Isn't it nice to work with Yong Ha again? Don't you think it's nice?"

"It - it's nice," Jae Shin stuttered. "He's changed a little. He wears glasses."

"I noticed that. Do you think it has anything to do with the bombing?"

Somewhere in Jae Shin's gut something twisted. "The what? The bombing?"

"Oh, you know," she said. But then her face changed. She turned her head and stared across the bakery.

Jae Shin followed her eyes. "Mom?"

"What is he doing here?" she said, her voice suddenly tight and quiet.

On the other side of the bakery the cake pervert (of course, it had to be the cake pervert) was sitting at a table, the menu open in front of him, legs crossed. Seon Joon was standing next to him, notepad in hand, waiting expectantly.

"Who, the kid?" Jae Shin shot his mother a look. "He's -"

"No, not him."

Ah. The cake pervert. Of course. "He's a regular, Mom." He shot her a sideways glance. "Why? Do you know him?"

"No," Hae Sook said firmly, her voice shaking very, very slightly. She stood up quickly, beckoning Jae Shin to her and grabbing her mother by the elbow. "You need to come with me. We're leaving."

"What?" his grandmother said, a forkful of bavarois still in her hand. "Why? What's wrong?"

"We're leaving," Hae Sook said again, catching Jae Shin's wrist as she strode past the table, toward the front door.

Despite everything, Jae Shin was powerless to resist his mother when she was like this, when her face was like this, when her words came out hard and sharp like knives. "Mom," he said desperately, "I can't just leave the shop, it's -"

"Boss?" Yoon Shik called to him from behind the coffee bar, looking suddenly agitated. "Um, are you...?"

And then the cake pervert was right there, next to the front door. Hae Sook practically skidded to a stop in front of him, her jaw clenched tight. She dropped both her mother's arm and her son's wrist, shoving them behind her, her hands twisting into fists. "Get out of the way."

  
In the back, Yoon Shik slammed the door open to the kitchen, making Yong Ha jump. He opened his mouth to spit out something irritable and acerbic, but Yoon Shik got there first. "There's something going on," he sputtered out, his eyes huge. "There's something going on with the boss."

All the blood left Yong Ha's face and he dropped the bowl of meringue he was holding, not giving a single damn whether the foam fell or not.

  
The man stepped forward hesitantly, started to raise a hand in self defense - thought better of it, and dropped it to his side again. "You're Young Jae's mother," he said quietly.

Hae Sook made a choking noise in the back of her throat. Jae Shin knew that noise. He knew the way her shoulders froze, the way her chin tilted upward. "Mom," he said quietly at her elbow, "Mom, it's okay -"

Her fist opened. Her hand came up.

The slap hit the man's face with so much force that he stumbled backward, and the noise ripped through the chatter in the bakery like a bullet through water. (Yong Ha lurched forward, heart in his throat, but Yoon Shik grabbed his elbow just in time and pulled him back.) "Don't you dare," she hissed through her teeth. "Don't you _fucking_ dare call Jae Shin that."

Jae Shin had gone white, tried to hold onto her shoulders. "Mom -"

But she shook him off and advanced on the man, her hand now a jabbing, accusing finger. "How dare you! What gives you the right?"

Behind the display case, Yoon Shik's hand on Yong Ha's elbow tightened. "Moon Young Jae," he breathed. Yong Ha looked down at the kid, who stared up at him to meet his eye. "Moon Young Jae. He's Moon Young Jae."

  
Moon Young Jae. An eight year old kid, taken from the street outside his school. For almost three months straight his name was in the headlines of every paper, in every news broadcast, on the lips of every mother in the country. It was a kidnapping case that shook the nation.

The kidnapper didn't ask for a ransom. He didn't ask for anything. He never contacted Young Jae's parents, he never contacted the police. One day Young Jae was in school, the next he was gone - having left only a fuzzy CCTV recording and a smear of blood on the pavement.

After two months everyone assumed he was dead. After nine weeks the newspapers stopped running the stories, the news broadcasts started running In Memoriam pieces, mothers across the country held their children tight.

In the twelfth week after his abduction, Moon Young Jae showed up bloody and crying in the street four blocks from his school, with absolutely no memory of anything that had happened. He couldn't tell his parents what the man looked like. Couldn't tell them where he'd been.

He was the third one - there'd been two others taken before him and both of them had turned up dead within two months after they'd vanished. Moon Young Jae was the boy who came home.

They never caught the kidnapper, but even after being relieved of his position the head detective on the case kept trying to finish his job. Kept coming back. Kept trying to talk to Young Jae, until finally the Moon family just moved away one day without warning.

  
"Detective Jung," Jae Shin said.

Detective Jung, the cake pervert, looked up at him. His hand was still on his cheek where Jae Shin's mother had hit him. "I just want to say I'm sorry," he said. "There's already another child missing. We didn't catch him, after everything he did to you and your family, and now it looks like he's doing it again."

  
"So you're that kid that got kidnapped," Yoon Shik said. "The one that came home."

Eom Hae Sook had left. The detective had gone. The bakery was empty except for them, in that in-between time between the afternoon and the after-dinner rush.

"Stop it," Yong Ha said. He was on one knee in front of the open display case, busily adjusting plates, signs; wiping bits of frosting from the china.

"It's okay," Jae Shin said, staring at the cash register. He looked up at Yoon Shik and smiled, just a little - that funny lopsided grin that said I Don't Know What I'm Doing. "You know now."

"God, I remember that," Yoon Shik mumbled, wrapping his arms around himself. "My mother wouldn't let my brother - wouldn't let me out of her sight for years after all that."

Yong Ha stilled, his hand still suspended over a creme brulee. He didn't look up. Didn't look Jae Shin in the eye. "You never said anything. Why didn't you ever say anything?"

"After everything - I couldn't take it," Jae Shin said. "My parents couldn't take the attention and I couldn't take all the pity. My parents changed my name. We moved. My dad had to start all over again from the beginning with his career. Everyone still gets worried, putting a bodyguard on me -" he gestured at Yong Ha "- so if I ever mess up they can blame themselves for it."

Yong Ha looked up then, his face flushed hot. "I'm not -"

"Don't," Jae Shin sighed. He ran a hand over his face. "You think I wouldn't know, what with you hanging around all the time after your shift is over? That didn't start until a couple of weeks ago, when my mom called. Who asked you to do that? My mother, or yours?"

Yong Ha clenched his jaw and didn't answer, just went back to glowering into the display case.

"So let's show them that we're doing fine, all right?" Jae Shin grinned and clapped his hands together. "So that they don't have to worry about anything. Hey, Genius -" this was directed at Yong Ha "- got it?"

"All the newspapers said you'd lost your memory," Seon Joon said. They all looked at him. "You really don't remember anything?"

"Yeah," Jae Shin said. "Mostly." He looked at the front door, out the window, at the street lights flickering on in the growing darkness. "The cake, though. I remember the cake. He fed me cake every single day."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay. A few things.  
> 1) Did I trick you?  
> 2) The name change is straight out of Antique Bakery - a little weird to do here, but it's a big part of the story: Jae Shin is just short of a chaebol heir and personal crime is extremely low in South Korea, so with all of the news stories everyone would know his name if it hadn't been changed after the abduction. I chose the name "Young Jae" because it fits the generational naming of Young Shin and Jae Shin and keeps part of Young Shin's name as part of Jae Shin, which was important.  
> 3) Yong Ha is _pissed_.


	12. Bodyguard

It was midnight - past midnight, actually, almost two o'clock in the morning - and Jae Shin was alone in the bakery. The streetlights outside the big picture windows at the front of the shop glowed a sort of greeny yellow on the soaking wet street. It was raining: the kind of rain that doesn't seem to know what it's doing, exactly, so it comes and goes in fits and bursts, one minute pounding the pavement like a million tiny hammers and the next doing its best impression of fog.

Yoon Shik had gone home at eight o'clock, Seon Joon had gone home at ten. Yong Ha had - he'd left early after restocking the case. Didn't say a word. Didn't look at him. Just washed his hands, changed out of his coat, took his bag and left through the back without telling anyone.

So now Jae Shin was alone. The shop was empty. The only thing keeping him company was the rain on the windows.

"I have to admit that I'm kind of impressed."

Jae Shin just barely managed to catch himself before falling off his stool. "What the fuck," he said, the very image of calm.

Yong Ha pushed off from where he'd been leaning, on the frame of the door leading into the kitchen, and drifted toward him. He looked exhausted - like he'd tried to sleep but failed spectacularly. He was wearing the same clothes he'd been in that morning but they were all messed up; more messed up than he ever would have let them get normally. "I've known you for fifteen years." He caught his right hand on the edge of the polished granite counter and leaned against it. "You know that?"

Jae Shin watched him move, but didn't look up into his face. "I know."

"Fifteen years. Fifteen years. In all that time you've never once managed to keep even my birthday present a secret, but this?" Yong Ha let out a long exhale. Ran a hand through his hair. "You never said anything. You never said a damn thing. Fifteen years, Shin."

"Are you mad at me?"

"Yeah." Yong Ha shut his mouth. Stared at the floor for a minute. "No. I don't know."

"When you figure it out," Jae Shin said, turning back around to face the front door, "let me know, all right?"

Yong Ha kicked one of the legs of his stool - not hard enough to knock it over, just hard enough to shake him a little. "Hey. Hey, I'm not done with you yet."

Jae Shin turned and glared at him. "Then what the hell else do you have to say? I don't know if you noticed, but it's kind of been a long day for me."

But the look on Yong Ha's face wasn't what he'd been expecting. He'd been expecting him to look tired, sure. Irritated. Sullen. Maybe a little vengeful, after everything was said and done.

Jae Shin opened his mouth. He closed his mouth. "Are you... are you drunk?"

"I'm..." Yong Ha paused to think about this, looking heavenward as if searching for answers. "Yes. I am superbly drunk."

"... Superbly."

"Magnificently. Exquisitely. Sublimely." He wobbled. "Pick a pleasantly superlative adverb and it probably applies to my situation."

Jae Shin half stood up, despite himself, extending a hand just in case Yong Ha tipped over without warning. "I've never - I didn't know you actually got drunk. How, when - when did you get this drunk?"

"You've heard the phrase 'it's five o'clock somewhere,' right," Yong Ha said pleasantly. "Well, it was five o'clock. And I was somewhere."

"That doesn't make any sense."

"No," Yong Ha said, and tipped forward - catching himself on the counter just before Jae Shin's hand reached him. He swatted Jae Shin's hand out of the air. "You know what doesn't make any sense? That we were best friends for twelve years and I didn't even know the name you were born with. That's what doesn't make any _fucking_ sense."

Jae Shin froze. "Listen, I'm sorry -"

"I have to be here really early tomorrow morning."

"What?"

"Like really early," Yong Ha said. He leaned back against the counter and tipped his head back. Closed his eyes. "Stupid early. What time is it?"

Jae Shin looked at him (at the eyelashes dark against his cheek, at the curve of his throat) and then looked at his watch. "Shit." He stood up. "We've been closed for five minutes. I have to lock up."

Yong Ha opened his eyes and tipped his chin back down but didn't look at Jae Shin. "Are you sleeping here tonight?"

"No," Jae Shin lied.

"Don't lie to me," Yong Ha said. He sighed and pushed off of the counter, barely wobbling at all now. "I'm not getting myself home, and you're not about to drive me -"

"I'd drive you home."

"- plus I don't trust you," Yong Ha continued, ignoring Jae Shin entirely. "Go lock up."

"You don't trust me? What don't you trust me to do?"

"I have no idea," Yong Ha said. He bit his lip. "You were right, you know."

There was something deep inside Jae Shin's chest that clenched tight. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"The bodyguard thing you said. I didn't realize it at the time, but you were right. My mom asked me to stay close, to keep an eye on you." Now Yong Ha looked up, into Jae Shin's face. His eyes were narrowed behind his glasses, but hell if Jae Shin could tell whether it was suspicion or just blurry vision. "To not let you be alone for long. So yeah. I don't know what I don't trust you to do - or don't trust you not to do, maybe. But we've known each other for fifteen years and you never said anything so I don't know that it matters."

"Listen -"

Yong Ha shook his head and turned around, headed toward the door up to the attic. Waved a hand over his shoulder. "Just go lock up, all right?"

He watched Yong Ha open the door, go up the stairs. He looked at his hands.

He locked up.

There were a lot more things to do than just lock the doors: he had to count out the cash drawer; sort the credit receipts; sweep the worst of the fall leaves out of the corners; pull tomorrow's prep racks out of the freezer to thaw out overnight. But he did them in a daze, only a fraction of his focus on what was in front of him and the rest upstairs, in the attic.

Jae Shin hit the light switch. Looked out into the dark of the bakery. Made up his mind.

When he opened the door at the left of the landing at the top of the stairs the ceiling light was off and the little table lamp he'd set up on the floor was on. The set up was like this: to the right, his desk in front of the window; to the left a few boxes still stacked up, an old armchair left behind by a previous inhabitant that had somehow survived the renovation, a filing cabinet he'd only just begun to fill; in the middle, a wide bed mat (that he'd stolen from his mother's house), four pillows (that he'd brought from his own bed) at the head, a table lamp just behind it, and -

Yong Ha was already asleep, of course. Of course. Thank god. He was curled up on his right side, his glasses on the floor next to him, and he was - it couldn't really be called snoring, but almost; that heavy breath that Jae Shin had only heard from him when he was sick or drunk.

Stepping very, very carefully, he made his way around and grabbed one of the pillows from the other side of the bed. Glowered at the comforter that Yong Ha had twisted around his legs. Turned back to the door, and made for the stairs.

"Where are you going?"

Jae Shin stopped cold, his foot already on the first step. He was probably imagining it (definitely imagining it) but it seemed like Yong Ha's voice reverberated somehow in the landing, in the narrow staircase; bouncing off walls and wooden steps, hitting him at all different angles so he couldn't quite manage to brace himself. He turned his head - just a little, not a lot, just enough to acknowledge that Yong Ha had said something - and thought hard for a second. "There are benches," he said, "in the front. I figure I can -"

"Don't be stupid." The fabric rustled behind him. "The bed mat up here is huge. You seriously think I'm going to let you sleep down there in the cold?"

No, he hadn't seriously thought that Yong Ha would let him, but he also hadn't planned on asking permission. "Is that up to you?"

But then Yong Ha's hand was on his shoulder and he was turning, being turned, until they were face to face. It was too sudden to resist, too unexpected - Yong Ha's bare feet hadn't made a sound on the wood floor. And now he was there, right there, his face pale in the dim light, the shadows under his eyes dark like bruises, his glasses still on the floor next to the bed.

Even without his glasses he didn't look like that kid Jae Shin used to know. These days he always just looked like himself.

"It is now," Yong Ha said. "Just come to bed, all right?" His firm expression cracked after half a second and he grinned. "Don't worry, I only bite if you ask nicely."

The hand on his shoulder. The stupid curling smile on Yong Ha's face. The stones in his stomach, the weight of having everything come out into the open, the way Yong Ha smelled like smoke and alcohol. God, he was tired. God, he was done with being alive right then. God. God.

"Okay," Jae Shin said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IT BEGINS. Have fun. (I certainly will.)


	13. Intent to Kill

Jae Shin woke up. It was still dark outside and the attic was almost pitch black, but something was on his hands.

All he could do was wait for his eyes to adjust, to wake up just a little more, but once he could see he wasn't sure if he really wanted to. He'd forgotten about the night before, when Yong Ha had come in drunk and angry and insistent and now, in the middle of the night, Yong Ha's face was inches away. His eyes were closed, he looked half dead, and he was inches away. Jae Shin tried to shift back, put some space between them, but -

\- but his wrists were held tight in Yong Ha's grip, and he couldn't escape.

Jae Shin was half asleep and his head was working slow, but he tried to twist out of Yong Ha's grip as gently as possible anyway so he didn't wake him up. Instead Yong Ha gasped in an inhale and curved up toward him, pulling Jae Shin's hands in tight against his chest, tucking his face in against Jae Shin's throat. "No," he mumbled. "Jae Shin. It's okay. You're okay."

"I know I'm okay," Jae Shin whispered back. "Give me my hands back."

A movement against the skin of his throat. Yong Ha had opened his eyes, and he was so close that his eyelashes could brush against him. "No." His voice was dark and tired, and his hands tightened around Jae Shin's wrists. "Go to sleep. Don't argue with me."

Jae Shin could barely argue with Yong Ha when they were both awake and he knew he didn't have a chance with both of them asleep like this. So he just didn't try.

  
"You were right."

Yong Ha turned his head. Jae Shin stood in the doorway to the kitchen. He was still in his pajamas and looked like he still hadn't quite woken up yet. "I know," Yong Ha said, because he usually was. "What about?"

"Being here stupid early," Jae Shin replied. He blinked a few times and stared at the floor. "What time is it?"

"7:30," Yong Ha said, looking up at the giant clock on the wall as pointedly as he could before turning back to the stove. He bit his lip, concentrated, and flipped the contents of the pan. "And yeah, it is stupid early, but between the delivery schedule and the increased business with the holidays there's not really anything I can do about it."

"When did you get up?"

"Seven, I guess? Maybe 6:30, I don't remember." He didn't look up from what he was doing. "How did you sleep?"

Jae Shin scratched his head. "I don't know."

"Well, you kept me up half the night, I know that." A bead of hot oil jumped out of the pan and he jerked his hand off the handle, hissed through his teeth. "Fuck, stop distracting me. God damn it!" He stuck his wrist in his mouth. "That really hurt."

A pressure on his shoulder made him step to the side without even thinking about it, and just like that Jae Shin was next to him - taking the handle of the pan in one hand and pulling the spatula away from Yong Ha with the other. "What are you making?" he said. "You're really bad with stoves."

"I swear it was gonna be an omelette," Yong Ha mumbled, the timbre of his voice stuck somewhere between complaint and contrition, "but it kinda... fell apart."

"I can see that." Jae Shin prodded the contents of the pan experimentally with the spatula and shook his head. "I guess it could still be a scramble?"

"Maybe," Yong Ha allowed, stepped back to lean against the butcher block island. He crossed his arms. "Sorry about that."

"You put the heat up too high." Jae Shin wiggled one of the dials on the front of the stove. "Too much oil. Doesn't look like you even broke the yolks before putting them in the pan, too - you have to beat the eggs first if you want your omelette to turn out. Christ, you can make an eclair that makes my mom call you a genius, but you can't even cook an egg?"

"I can bake eggs."

Jae Shin looked at Yong Ha over his shoulder and made a face. "That sounds disgusting."

"Nah," Yong Ha said, waving a hand. "You can make these cute little quiche thingies, right? Some bacon, a little spinach or whatever - all you need then is a muffin pan. It's kind of awesome."

"Little quiche thingies?"

"Sure. You know, 'thingie' - it's a technical term."

Jae Shin shook his head and turned his attention back to the stove. "Go make yourself useful and make some coffee."

"Yoon Shik won't be here for four hours," Yong Ha said, cocking his head to one side. He watched the way Jae Shin's arms moved, how the muscles in his shoulders worked when he shifted the pan on the stove. He seemed so alive, so normal. Yong Ha had almost expected him to be a ghost after everything was said and done. "You sure you want coffee? That I made?"

Jae Shin shrugged. "Can't be worse than whatever this omelette ended up being once you were finished with it."

Yong Ha rolled his eyes. "You're such an asshole."

  
When Kim Yoon Shik came to work in the morning he was used to Yong Ha banging around in the kitchen, filling the bakery wall-to-wall with equal parts racket and the smell of fresh baked cake. He was used to turning on the coffee makers, flipping on the lights in the display case, opening up the kitchen door and yelling at Yong Ha to pipe the hell down before they opened for the day.

He wasn't used to the coffee makers already set up and warm. To a few dirty dishes already in the sink. To quiet in the bakery.

The hush made him feel like tiptoeing, despite himself, so he pushed the kitchen door open as gently as he could and peered around the corner. "Gu Yong Ha," he said, his voice almost more of a whisper than anything.

Yong Ha looked up. He was bent over a row of baking sheets, each packed end-to-end with something different - petit fours on one, eclairs on the next, little chocolate cups of mousse on the one after that - and with a pastry bag full to bursting with whipped cream cradled in his right arm. "Kim Yoon Shik," he said back. "Why are we whispering?"

"It's really... quiet," Yoon Shik said. "In the bakery. And the coffee makers are all on."

"Yeah," Yong Ha said, bending back over the baking sheets and sticking his tongue out of the corner of his mouth in concentration as he piped a swirl onto a little cup of chocolate mousse. "We wanted coffee, so I made some. Don't worry, I didn't break anything."

"We?"

"Jae Shin and me." Yong Ha looked up. "Were you expecting someone else?"

Yoon Shik looked over his shoulder into the bakery. At the two cups in the sink. "I guess not," he said. "Why were you... I mean, why was he...?"

"It's been busy. A lot of stuff to get done." Yong Ha sighed and adjusted his hold on the pastry bag. "Listen, this conversation is extremely enjoyable and everything, but if I'm going to get this done in the next half an hour I have to focus before my arm falls off. Go open things up or something, I don't know. Oh, hold on -"

Yoon Shik backpedaled and stuck his head back through the kitchen door. "What?"

"Go wake up Jae Shin, would you? I think he fell back asleep. He's gonna be pissed if I let him sleep all day."

Yoon Shik stared of Yong Ha. "Are you two okay?" he asked, the words coming out worried and hesitant. "After yesterday?"

Yong Ha blew a strand of hair out of his face. Leaned back. Nudged his glasses back up his nose with the back of his wrist. "Maybe," he said - and grinned. "Probably not. He's an asshole, you know that?"

"Hmm," Kim Yoon Shik said, and retreated into the bakery. He let the door swing a few times, losing momentum, before he held his hand up and stopped it gently with his open palm. He looked over his shoulder. Bit his lip.

  
Jae Shin opened his eyes, said a rude word extremely loudly, and pressed his face into the pillow to hide from the sun beaming directly through the window at him.

"Um," Kim Yoon Shik said from somewhere above him. "Gu Yong Ha said... he said I should wake you up...?"

"Tell him to go suck his own dick until it falls off," Jae Shin growled into his pillow.

"I'm, um. I'm not going to tell him to do that. It's almost noon, boss."

"What does the time have to do with your refusal to follow a direct order? I'll court martial you for insubordination."

"I'm a barista," Yoon Shik said. "Not a soldier. This isn't the military."

"Thank god," Jae Shin mumbled. "Okay. Fine. Tell the asshole downstairs that I'm awake."

"Are you?"

"How's this: tell the asshole downstairs that I'm awake or I will kill you."

  
"He says he's awake," Yoon Shik said, sticking his head into the kitchen.

"I'll believe that when I see it," Yong Ha replied. "Did he threaten to kill you?"

"Yeah. And you're supposed to suck your own dick until it falls off."

Yong Ha smiled beatifically. "I'm glad to hear he's feeling better."


	14. Woman's Intuition

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short chapter, because it's more funny that way.

"I think they might have slept together last night," Yoon Shik said, around a mouthful of croissant.

It was kind of impressive, really, the way there was only the briefest of pauses in Seon Joon's otherwise-entirely-smooth movement as he moved dirty dishes from the tray in his hand into the sink. "Oh," he said, his voice sounding strangely far away. "What, uh... what makes you say that?"

Yoon Shik looked across the bakery and thoughtfully tapped his chin a couple of times. "You know, I'm not entirely sure," he murmured, voice low so that only Seon Joon could hear him. "Woman's intuition?"

Jae Shin slammed open the front door and practically tumbled over the threshold. "It's cold as balls out there," he hissed, and stomped through the bakery until he hit the door to the kitchen with a resounding bang.

"So by sleep together," Seon Joon said, watching the kitchen door swing back and forth a few times, "do you mean like... become unconscious while in close proximity? Or...?"

"I'm still working on that part of the theory."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll do my best to update again in no more than a week or so, but I'm moving and I may not get a chance. Fair warning!


	15. Have a little pity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another epistolary chapter?? Yeah yeah, I know...

**From: Gu Yong Ha [forestforthetrees@dareun.kr]**  
 **To: Moon Jae Shin [crazy_bastard@dareun.kr]**  
 **Date: December 7**  
 **Subject: Have a little pity.**

I find myself in dire straits  
It seems to have gotten quite late  
My home is quite far  
And as I've no car  
I won't possibly make it by eight.  
  


* * *

  
 **From: Moon Jae Shin [crazy_bastard@dareun.kr]**  
 **To: Gu Yong Ha [forestforthetrees@dareun.kr]**  
 **Date: December 7**  
 **Subject: Re: Have a little pity.**

Are you requesting that I let you stay?  
To sleep above my bakery instead?  
Supposing, then, that I give you your way,  
Allow you up the stairs and in my bed -

What guarantee will you provide for me,  
A promise that alleviates the chore?  
Remember that I don't sleep until three,  
And that you have been known (sometimes) to snore.

Provided that you promise not to whine  
when I come in at night, however late,  
and if you let me sleep in until nine,  
I guess this could work out, although not great.

Please keep in mind that you owe me for this.  
Don't make me wish I had thought to dismiss.  
  


* * *

  
 **From: Gu Yong Ha [forestforthetrees@dareun.kr]**  
 **To: Moon Jae Shin [crazy_bastard@dareun.kr]**  
 **Date: December 7**  
 **Subject: Re: Re: Have a little pity.**

Cool. I'll go get my stuff. Don't wait up!  
  


* * *

  
 **From: Moon Jae Shin [crazy_bastard@dareun.kr]**  
 **To: Gu Yong Ha [forestforthetrees@dareun.kr]**  
 **Date: December 7**  
 **Subject: Re: Re: Re: Have a little pity.**

.... remind me not to waste any more sonnets on you.


	16. Everything is the Same

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is all tension and character development. If you're reading this fic for the plot, then a) why? and b) come back in a couple of chapters.

Jae Shin opened his eyes and didn't know where he was.

Okay. Let's think this through.

The bakery: check. The attic: check. The bed mat on the floor: check. Everything was the same as it had been for the past week and a half, two weeks. He was on the right side of the mattress like he always was, had pushed the pillows off the bed like he always did, had twisted himself up in the blanket. Nothing was different. Everything was the same.

So whose collar bone was two inches away from his face?

His head was running slow still, still coming up out of a deep sleep. There was an arm under the side of his head. A hand resting on his shoulder. The collar bone right in front of his face rose and fell slowly, gently, with the constant pulse of breath.

The sparse, cold light of very early morning came in through the window across the room and there was a part of him that was yelling and carrying on somewhere in the back of his head, but most of him was just sleepy. And comfortable. And warm.

Despite himself, he looked up.

He wasn't stupid. He knew a lot of things: how to tie a really fucking fantastic knot; how to pace himself through a truly impressive amount of soju without dying of alcohol poisoning; how to wriggle out of being in trouble with his mother. He was good at most things he tried and some that he didn't try very hard at at all and if you needed a sijo poem or a snarky comeback or a good punch in the face, well, you just give him a call.

But still. Still. Despite himself, he looked up.

His head was still running slow, but - fuck. Right. Yong Ha had slept in the attic and when everything was finished up, the doors locked, the chores done, Jae Shin had come upstairs and laid on his back in the dark for what felt like hours. Stared at the ceiling. Listened to Yong Ha's breathing slow and deepen into sleep. Wondered what the hell he was doing.

But apparently he'd managed to fall asleep anyway, because here he was: tucked in against Yong Ha's chest, Yong Ha's arm under his head and his hand on his shoulder.

Yong Ha sighed. Stretched his left arm. Then settled again, resting his cheek on Jae Shin's forehead. "You awake?"

"No," Jae Shin lied.

"Me neither," Yong Ha mumbled back. "Go back to sleep." Wrapped both arms around Jae Shin's shoulders. Pulled him close. Began snoring, just a little.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Jae Shin stared at Yong Ha's throat, watched his jugular pulse with the beat of his heart, and felt his face get hot. This was - this was a terrible idea. The whole thing, every piece of it. No choice made here had been the right one. What would happen if Yong Ha woke up the rest of the way, realized the position they were in? He would leave. He had to leave, just like before.

Carefully, delicately, Jae Shin wriggled his hand up between their bodies and tried to use it as a wedge to lever them apart, but Yong Ha's elbows seemed to be almost locked around his shoulders and he didn't have the leverage to separate them. So instead he was just... stuck. Nowhere to go. No way to escape.

"The sun's up," Jae Shin said, wishing it wasn't. Wishing it was still dark. "It has to be at least seven. Don't you need to get up?"

Yong Ha heaved a sigh and wiggled a little, settling into the mattress. "Don't worry about it," he murmured into Jae Shin's hair, his voice thick-tongued and heavy with sleep. "I set an alarm for 7:30. Five more minutes at least."

Jae Shin closed his eyes, squeezed them shut. "You're suffocating me."

"Shh."

"You smell terrible. Let me go, I have to take a shower."

Yong Ha groaned and rolled over on his back, his right arm still tucked under Jae Shin's head. "Fine. Whatever. If my alarm goes off in less than five minutes and you ruined my last bit of sleep I'm going to make you wish I was never born."

Jae Shin opened his eyes and looked at him. Looked at the curve of his throat, the lines the pillowcase had left on his cheek, the way his hair had knotted and tangled in the night. "I already wish you were never born," he lied.

"Go take a shower and leave me to die, asshole."

  
The water was hot and the tile was cool and Jae Shin had enough of a headache to kill sixteen men and a dog, so all he could do was close his eyes. Lean his forehead against the wall. Aim the showerhead to run over his shoulders so that he could at least pretend he was relaxing for once in his life.

Of course all he could think about was Gu Yong Ha and his... and his goddamn collar bone, of all things. He opened his eyes and glared sleepily at the grout between the old gray tiles. He felt like he should be thinking about something else, but he couldn't remember what. It was just Yong Ha in his head. Writing him limericks. Insinuating himself into his life.

The bathroom door opened.

"What the fuck," Jae Shin yelped, and turned quickly to face the corner.

"Calm down," came Yong Ha's voice, because of course it was Yong Ha. Was there anyone else it could possibly be? Yoon Shik didn't come in for another three hours, Seon Joon for another six, and besides that neither of them would ever dream of barging in on their boss (their _boss_ ) in the bathroom. Only Yong Ha. Only motherfucking Gu Yong Ha. "There's a shower curtain in here, you prude. And anyway it's not like it's anything I haven't seen before. Do you want -"

"What are you doing in here?!"

"Jesus, Shin. You're acting like my mother." Yong Ha's shadow moved on the shower curtain and Jae Shin didn't have to move the curtain aside to know he was shifting his weight from one hip to the other, crossing his arms, rolling his eyes. "You know, my alarm went off right after you got up. I'm kind of pissed."

"So why the hell are you in the bathroom?"

"I just wanted to know if I should make you some coffee."

"Oh," Jae Shin said He looked down at himself, wet and vulnerable and confusing, and couldn't help feeling more than a little betrayed by his own body. Now? It was going to do this now? "Thanks."

"... So?"

"So what?"

"Do you want coffee or not?"

"Coffee," Jae Shin said. Pressed his forehead against the cool tile again and tried to think. There wasn't a lot of blood making it to his brain just right then and damn it to hell if he could figure out why. (It was just Yong Ha. It was just Gu Yong Ha. Maybe it was a Fight Or Flight response? Fight, Flight, Or Fuck? Ugh, no.) "Yeah. Coffee."

Silence from the other side of the shower curtain for a few seconds. "You're sleepier than I thought you were. You sure you don't just want to go back to bed for a couple of hours? I can come wake you up later if you want."

Jae Shin closed his eyes. Yong Ha used to wake him up in the middle of the night when the nightmares really got bad - didn't speak, didn't shake him awake. Just laid a cool hand on his forehead. On his throat, where his jugular thumped blood fast and hard through his body. "No, I'm... I'm fine. Coffee sounds fantastic, thanks."

Sometimes Yong Ha wouldn't wake him up at all. Sometimes he would just climb into bed with him, and Jae Shin wouldn't know about it until he'd wake up in the morning (for once feeling like he'd actually slept like a real person) with his face buried in Yong Ha's chest; Yong Ha's arms around his shoulders and the back of his head; the muffled sound of Yong Ha's slow, steady heartbeat the only thing he could hear.

Maybe that was why he'd woken up like that that morning? Just... muscle memory. Had to be.

"How do you take it these days?" Yong Ha's voice (smart-mouthed and impudent like always) rang in his ears, snapped him back to reality. "I know you used to drink it black, but I really wish you would -"

"Con panna."

"Con panna? You sure? I thought you didn't like whipped cream."

"Con panna," Jae Shin repeated. Leaned his head back, stared at the ceiling. Focused on his breathing. (The memory of Yong Ha in his bed wasn't helping anything.) "Please."

"Yessss." Yong Ha's shadow moved on the shower curtain with the exaggerated motion of a victorious fist pump. "I told you! I told you you'd like it. Didn't I tell you?"

"You told me."

"Hey. Jae Shin."

Jae Shin stuck his face in the water for a second. Scrubbed it with his hands. Resisted the urge to hit himself. "What?"

Yong Ha's shadow darkened, shrank, sharpened as he moved closer to the shower curtain. "Don't leave me hanging, man. Fist bump me."

"I'm naked. I'm not going to fist bump you."

"Oh come on. Naked fist bumps are the best kind! ... Seriously, you're not going to fist bump me? You're the worst."

"Just go make me some fucking coffee."

"I didn't sign up to make any fucking coffee. Just the normal kind. I don't think you'd like fucking coffee anyway, it's way too salt-"

"Get out of the bathroom!"

"Fine, fine! Jesus." But his shadow got even closer for a second. His voice changed from its normal teasing tone into something softer, quieter, a little more honest. "Come downstairs when you're done. I'll leave it on the coffee bar for you. Won't be as good as Yoon Shik's, but then whose coffee is?"

The bathroom door opened, again. The bathroom door closed.

Jae Shin breathed in. He breathed out. He looked down at his body with the air of a military general inspecting a particularly embarrassing squad of soldiers. "You are the absolute worst," he said to his dick. "Calm the fuck down."

  
On the other side of the bathroom door Yong Ha lingered for a second, his right hand still on the doorknob, his left hand pressed against his solar plexus. It hadn't been that stupid of an idea, and it's not like Jae Shin had freaked out that much (less than he could have, anyway), and anyway it had been nice, right? It was nice to offer to make coffee for your frie- for your boss. So why was his heart pumping so hard? Why was he so nervous? Why was his breath catching in his chest?

The tap squeaked on the other side of the bathroom door and the sound of water went from a torrent to a slow drip. Yong Ha jerked away from the door and tripped a few steps backwards, staring at the door like it would open any second and Jae Shin would - what? What would he do? Growl at him for still being there, at least.

His left hand still against his chest, supporting his diaphragm, he ran down the stairs as quietly as he could.


	17. Help

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to really get an authentic experience, listen to Love You To Death and This Ain't It by Taeyang on loop while reading chapters 17 through 20. It also helps if you cackle wickedly from time to time and eat way too much popcorn throughout.

"He won't let me buy cake anywhere else," the woman was saying.

The door was half an inch from his fingertips but Yong Ha hung back. Glanced over his shoulder at the giant clock on the wall (there'd been a smaller one for the first month but Yong Ha had complained until Jae Shin replaced it with one he could actually read from anywhere in the kitchen, even without his glasses - which, in retrospect, had taken a lot less complaining than he'd expected in the beginning) to double check that he was on time.

"That's what we like to hear," came Jae Shin's voice, muffled by the door. "How would you like this wrapped?" Yong Ha tried not to roll his eyes, he really did, but hearing Jae Shin go all customer-servicey was beyond hilarious and yet also deeply embarrassing at the same time.

He leaned against the tile wall and watched the clock, (the minute hand shuddering with every second), only half listening to the conversation on the other side of the door. He hadn't meant it to end up like this, not really. It had started in a fit of pique and then it had just... continued. He hadn't meant it to turn out like this, hadn't meant to come back to work at ten o'clock every night, hadn't meant to sleep on a mat over the kitchen every night. But the first night he'd been too drunk and too worried and too _furious_ to go home and then -

\- and then Jae Shin's nightmares had been so bad it scared the hell out of him, is what had happened. They'd been roommates for three years in college and had slept at one another's houses uncountable times before that. They'd gone camping and hiking and on weekend trips and shared hotel rooms and never once, not once, did Yong Ha remember Jae Shin ever having a night even close to so chillingly horrible.

The door creaked slightly and Yong Ha realized half a second too late that he hadn't heard the woman's voice for almost a whole minute. Gu Yong Ha, the omniscient, ever-present observer, jumped nearly out of his skin when Jae Shin pushed the door open and gave him the dirtiest look he'd seen on someone's face since... well, since the last time he'd seen Jae Shin, actually. (Jae Shin's skillset was as broad and varied as the sea, but mostly he was a master of the dirty look. Yong Ha not-so-secretly suspected that it was an innate talent that he'd inherited from his mother.)

"Why are you lurking back here?"

"I was gonna suck your blood," Yong Ha said, trying to at least look as though he were recovering quickly, "but then I remembered how much you drink and I don't really feel like getting alcohol poisoning tonight."

"Cute," Jae Shin growled, rolling his eyes and pulling away from the door, letting it swing shut behind him.

Yong Ha caught the door (barely - nearly pinching his fingers in the process) and twisted through after him. "Who was that? Isn't it a little late to be buying cake?"

"Isn't it a little late for you to be a total brat?"

"Never," Yong Ha purred sweetly. "But I guess this place is open until 2am for a reason. But seriously, do you know her?"

Jae Shin shrugged. "She's a regular. I think she works late - comes in maybe once, twice a week, never before nine o'clock."

Yong Ha made a face, wrinkling his nose and frowning with distaste. "That's not half as interesting as I was hoping," he sighed, levering himself up to sit on the marble counter of the coffee bar next to the display case. His left shoulder slipped from its socket as he did so, the bone grating over tendon, but it wasn't so bad that he couldn't bite back the hiss and wince of it. (Someday he had to learn not to do that kind of dumb shit, right? At least he'd learned not to let it show. To each its own time.) "You don't have a crush on her or anything?"

Jae Shin shot him a dangerous look. "She's married. Get off the counter."

"That's not really an answer," Yong Ha replied, inspecting the nails of his right hand and ignoring Jae Shin's expression as studiously as possible. "Take it from me, marriage is no real obstacle when it comes to matters of the dick."

"That's disgusting. Does your mother know you think that?"

"God, I hope not." Yong Ha twinkled at Jae Shin and kicked his feet, thumping his heels against the cabinet doors, tucking his left wrist into his lap. "She'd kill me. Or worse. Chop something off, maybe. So come on - crush or no?"

"I'm not like you," Jae Shin said. "I don't fall in love with every girl I see. Are you going to get off the counter?"

"First," Yong Ha said, holding a single, self-righteous index finger aloft, "that is rude. I do not fall in love with every girl I see. Lust - sure, I'll give you that one - but lust and love are _very_ different."

"Hm," Jae Shin said, crossing his arms over his chest and arching a skeptical eyebrow. "For you?"

"Shut up," Yong Ha shot back, jabbing a finger in his direction. "Second, no: I am not planning on getting off the counter any time soon. I'm going to camp out here forever. Maybe start a family. And lo," he continued, waving his right hand in the general direction of the coffee ground waste bin, "my great grandchildren will bury me in yonder fertile hills. My burial mound will be tended devoutly for three hundred years."

"Don't bury human cadavers in the coffee grounds. It's not sanitary. We'll get shut down by the health department."

"You are a fun-ruiner," Yong Ha said.

"Get off the counter," Jae Shin said, proving him right.

"Ah," Yong Ha said. Paused. Cleared his throat. Tried to smile in a disarmingly cavalier sort of way but knew before it had even touched his lips that it was a failure in the making. "Funny story about that. You know my left arm?"

"We have a passing acquaintance." Jae Shin narrowed his eyes. "What about it?"

Yong Ha waved his left hand from the wrist, very careful not to move his shoulder. "I definitely popped something getting up here. It'll be fine in a minute, but I'll need to -"

Jae Shin took a step forward. "You what?"

"Popped something," Yong Ha said, rolling his eyes. "Are you going deaf or something? Seriously, it'll just be a minute."

"What do you mean you 'popped' something?" Jae Shin glared at him. "I feel like we aren't using the same dictionary here."

"Jesus, it sounds worse than it is. It kind of dislocates when I do something stupid, but it's not like one of those tragic dislocations in a war movie. It's just a pop. It'll go back in a minute." It was at that point that Yong Ha made the mistake of looking at Jae Shin's face. "It's fine," he said again. "It's fine. Forget I said anything. Just - just give me a minute."

But Jae Shin uncrossed his arms, took another step forward. His face was hard, his jaw clenched, his mouth tight. "What happened to you?"

"You saw," Yong Ha insisted. "I pulled myself up on the counter."

"My mom said something about a bombing."

Fuck. What was it with mothers and sharing all your secrets? Yong Ha closed his eyes. "Look. Shin." He opened them again and looked up at the ceiling. Dug for words. "You know how we've known each other for fifteen years and you never once told me what happened to you?"

"What's that got to do with -"

"Mine's probably not as bad," Yong Ha interrupted, looking him in the eye. "But give me a little while, all right? Yours was twenty years ago and you don't remember it. Mine was two years ago and I remember every second. All right?" Jae Shin clenched his jaw and looked at the floor. "Shin. All right?"

"Do you need help getting off the counter?"

Whatever he was expecting, that wasn't it - so for half a second he just sat there, frozen, with his mouth open. "What?"

Jae Shin gestured over his shoulder toward the front doors of the bakery, the windows black. "It's not quite 10:30. We're still open. Dislocated shoulders or not, I can't have you sitting on the counter in your street clothes. Or any clothes, for that matter."

"So naked is fine, then?" Jae Shin glared at him and he brought his hand up defensively. "That was a joke. I'm joking. I'm joking! Jesus, stop looking at me like I took a piss in your washing machine and help me off the counter."

There was a second, not even a second, where Yong Ha could have sworn that the look on Jae Shin's face read almost like fear - but it was gone before it even registered and instead Jae Shin cleared his throat. Moved in close. Clasped his hands stiffly around Yong Ha's waist.

"Hey -" was all Yong Ha could get out as he reached out with his right hand, steadying himself on the curve of Jae Shin's arm, before he was lifted easily off the counter and he lost his voice.

Jae Shin didn't know what he was thinking. Maybe he wasn't thinking at all, which made sense. It made more sense than anything else that was happening, his hands around Yong Ha's waist. He felt compelled, suddenly, to just leave his hands there without helping Yong Ha off the counter, (and do what? it would be like some stupid scene in some stupid romantic movie), but instead when Yong Ha opened his mouth and laid a hand on his arm he used the moment to pull him from the counter and set him on the ground as carefully as he could.

Maybe he could have been faster to move his hands from Yong Ha's waist, but these days Yong Ha looked like himself all the time (which was a stupid way of describing it, but for all his poetry he couldn't think of better words) and it was getting harder for Jae Shin not to recognize him. But recognize him as what? As an old friend?

Jae Shin didn't have a lot of friends but even he knew that old friends didn't miss each other the way he missed Yong Ha, cold and heavy like ice in his stomach.

"You should go to bed," he said. Stuck his hands in his pockets. "Don't you have to be up early tomorrow morning? Christmas is next week and the delivery schedule is ridiculous."

But now Yong Ha was looking at him, brows knit together just a little, lips just barely parted. He was cradling his left arm against his ribs in that way that Jae Shin had learned meant _worry_ and the fingers of his right hand were still slightly splayed as though he were still bracing himself against Jae Shin's arm. "Yeah," he said after a second, the anxiety clearing from his face like the sun coming out. "Yeah, I need to get some sleep." He grinned and patted Jae Shin sweetly on the cheek. "Thanks for the hand, darling. I could have gotten myself down eventually but it wouldn't have been terribly graceful."

Jae Shin could feel the blood rush to his face so he batted Yong Ha's hand away and turned back toward the front of the shop. "Just... go to bed. Stop being weird."

"Fat chance. Don't forget to pull out the prep racks," Yong Ha said, and turned on his heel to head back into the kitchen.

Jae Shin turned his head. "Where are you going?"

"To grab my stuff?" He came back, bonking his way through the door, his bag fat and overstuffed and heavy on his right shoulder. "I didn't know if there were customers out here so I left it in the back."

"Oh," Jae Shin said. He'd forgotten for a second that Yong Ha didn't really live with him in the bakery, that he paid rent on another room somewhere, that he went somewhere else to get fresh clothes, that when somebody said _home_ there was some other place he thought of. "Yeah."

"Now," Yong Ha said, pausing at the attic door with his hand on the door knob, "I know you're crazed with lust for me, Shin, but please -" He winked and licked his lips. "- try to keep yourself from tearing my clothes off when you come upstairs later. My shoulder's still sore, you'll have to be gentle with me."

And then he was gone, the door slamming shut behind him, the sound of his footsteps quick and light as they receded upward. Jae Shin closed his mouth, the rude comeback he'd never managed to fully form dying on his lips. Behind him, the bell over the front door clonked miserably as the door swung open.

He really needed to get that fixed.

  
At 2:30 in the morning everything was quiet and dark. The money had been counted. The doors locked. The prep racks had (of course) been pulled out of the walk-in freezer and Jae Shin had nearly frozen off his fingerprints doing it like he did every night. None of the tasks were difficult. Tedious, sure. Time consuming, definitely. Boring, absolutely. But easy and mindless and downright _enjoyable_  compared to what he had to do next.

Jae Shin ran a hand over his face like he did every night, his hand hesitating on the door knob of the attic door. Every morning he woke up and thought _this was a bad idea_  and every day he managed to forget and every night... every night (every damn night) he stood in front of the attic door, hand on the knob, psyching himself up to climb the stairs.

Maybe it wasn't that it was difficult. Maybe it was that it was so, so easy. It was the easiest thing he did all day.

Like every night, he opened the door. Like every night, he climbed the stairs. Like every damn night, he opened the door to the room where Yong Ha lay sleeping.

Everything was like it had been every night for the past two weeks. The table lamp at the head of the bed was on, the overhead light was off. Yong Ha's bag open next to the right side of the bed, its contents disheveled and scattered. The comforter had been thrown off and twisted. And Yong Ha -

\- unlike any other night for the past two weeks, Yong Ha was sleeping in the same jeans and button-up shirt that he'd worn the day before.

It shouldn't have meant anything, it didn't mean anything, but Jae Shin couldn't stop noticing the inconsistency. He unbuttoned his shirt and pulled the sleeves down his arms and noticed the way Yong Ha lay stiff on his back instead of curled up on his side like he normally slept. Pulled on one of his old t-shirts that Yong Ha had always hated and noticed the way Yong Ha had gotten pajamas out of his bag but then had left them crumpled and half-unfolded at the foot of the mattress. Stepped out of his jeans and pulled on flannel pajama pants and noticed that even in the dim yellow light of the lamp Yong Ha's skin looked even more pale than normal.

He lowered himself down onto the mattress. Sat crosslegged next to Yong Ha and watched him breathe for a minute - noticed the way his chest moved in what was almost more of a stutter than anything else, noticed the shadows under his eyes, noticed an unfamiliar rigidity in the muscles of his neck. Was it possible to feel stupid and worried and exhausted and angry all at the same time? Was he awake enough to fit all of that into his skull? No. Maybe. Seemed like he could, anyway, because they were all in there together and they wouldn't shut the fuck up.

"Hey," Jae Shin said, but his voice was so hoarse it barely came out at all. "Hey," he said again, but Yong Ha didn't move, so Jae Shin elected to prod him tentatively in the ribs. "Hey, jerk."

Yong Ha squeezed his eyes shut tight (his face crumpling in on itself just slightly) and turned his head away from the light. "Go away."

"You didn't change for bed. Were you really that tired?"

"No," Yong Ha said, his voice tight and strange and clipped. "Leave me alone."

"Are you okay?"

Yong Ha's eyebrows knit together. He wasn't awake, that much was obvious, but he wasn't completely asleep either. "No," he mumbled after a second. "I can't take my clothes off."

Jae Shin sat up straight, back rigid, hands clutching his knees in a white-knuckled grip as though holding onto a lifeline. "You what?"

Yong Ha brought his right hand up and put it over his face, opened his mouth to take in a breath before saying something - but the inhale caught in his chest and he didn't say anything for a second, his face twisting. Just held his breath, his hand pressed hard over his eyes, and lay stiff on the mattress.

"Hey." Jae Shin swallowed. "Hey. Are you okay?"

"Shin, I can't -" but his voice came out strangled and exhausted and half asleep "- my arm really hurts and I can't take my clothes off. I can't take my clothes off."

"What do you mean, you can't take your clothes off?"

Yong Ha opened his eyes slightly but didn't say anything. His left arm lay useless on the mattress, curled in against his side. "My sleeves," he said finally, tongue loose. "I can't move the right way. My arm hurts."

"Do you need help?" The words came out of Jae Shin's mouth almost before he could stop to think about them, and for a second he felt stupid -

"No," Yong Ha breathed. He closed his eyes again, turned his head. "Go away."

\- but fuck feeling stupid. To hell with feeling stupid. Jae Shin was sick to death of feeling stupid. He was sitting on the bed next to his best friend (yeah, yeah, they'd messed it up somehow and these days were more like strangers, but still) who had to be up early. Who was working almost every day between now and the end of the month because of him. Who couldn't get to sleep or change his own clothes or even feel okay asking him for help (Yong Ha used to ask him for help all the time, he used to never leave him alone, he used to ask him to buy him lunch and throw away his trash and take his shoes off and any number of stupid small things) and now look at him. Now look at him, his face was drawn and his skin was white and his left arm hung loose from his shoulder.

So Jae Shin felt stupid for a second and reached out anyway.

Yong Ha opened one eye. "What are you doing?"

"Helping," Jae Shin said. The buttons were quick work. "I know you said I shouldn't tear your clothes off. Sorry." The last button came undone and he held out his hand, palm up. "You're going to have to sit up."

"I don't want to."

"You can't sleep in this," Jae Shin insisted. "Hey. _Hey_. Give me your hand. Your right hand, I mean."

Yong Ha looked at him for a second from under heavy eyelids before sleepily lifting his right hand and laying it over Jae Shin's open palm. "I've slept in my day clothes before," he mumbled. "It's okay."

He'd slept in his day clothes before, he said, and Jae Shin had the terrible thought of Yong Ha by himself in his apartment, in pain but too fucking proud to call anyone. It pissed him off. "Yeah, and did you have anyone to help you?" Yong Ha stilled. Looked away, like he couldn't quite look Jae Shin in the eye. "Right. And now you do, so shut up. Hold your arm stiff, all right?" And pulled. (Gently.)

"Fuck," Yong Ha hissed, his fist clenching so tight on Jae Shin's hand that his knuckles went white. He bent over almost double, his left arm curled under him, his right hand still in Jae Shin's palm. "Fucking hell. Shit."

His grip hurt, but Jae Shin just took a deep breath and took it. "Are you okay?"

The only sound Yong Ha made was the sound of his breath, heavy and labored. "I'm fine," he said finally, but it came out in a gasp.

"You said your shoulder would go back. Did it not go back? Do you need to go to the hospital?"

"Don't ask stupid questions," Yong Ha choked out. He sat up a little, his face pale. "It's fine. I'm fine."

Jae Shin clenched his jaw. Took a deep breath. Once more, into the breach. "Let go of my hand so I can help you with your shirt."

The right arm went all right; a little awkwardly, with Yong Ha's joints loose and exhausted, but easily enough and relatively quickly. The left arm took some doing. Every time Jae Shin bumped his arm Yong Ha would suck in a tight, quiet breath and say nothing - but that was almost worse than if he'd said something, anything, if he'd cursed or hissed or spat out something rude. A scar, silver and shining, peeked out from under the sleeve of his undershirt, and Jae Shin tried not to look at it.

"There. You helped." Yong Ha closed his eyes and lay back down, holding tight onto his left shoulder. "I'm going back to sleep."

"In your jeans?"

Quiet for a second. Yong Ha opened his eyes, (just a tiny bit), and stared blurrily at the ceiling. "In my jeans," he echoed, his voice distant. "Just... just go to sleep, all right? Please just go to sleep."

Jae Shin looked at Yong Ha, then down at his hands. Was this the hill he was going to die on? "Stop arguing with me. Are you just arguing for the sake of arguing?"

"Usually," Yong Ha sighed sleepily.

He leaned over. Propped himself up on one arm. Looked down at Yong Ha. "Hey."

Yong Ha took in a breath to say something and opened his eyes and - and nothing. He didn't say anything, just looked up at Jae Shin, half asleep and trying to figure out what was happening.

"You have two options." Jae Shin held up two fingers to illustrate his point. "Option 1, you undo your jeans and I help you take them off. Option 2, I undo your jeans and then help you take them off."

Yong Ha swallowed. "That's... very romantic of you." Jae Shin just arched his eyebrows and pursed his lips expectantly, so Yong Ha took a deep breath. Turned his head away from Jae Shin. Twisted his mouth. "Damn it. Fine." Reached down with his right hand and undid the button of his jeans.

"I'm not the one who told you to wear skinny jeans," Jae Shin shot back, tugging at the denim around Yong Ha's knees before pulling the jeans off at his ankles. He flipped them right side out and folded them over a few times until they were a little more compact. "If you wore something else for once they'd be easier for you to get in and out of by yourself." He set them down at the foot of the bed and turned back toward Yong Ha. "Don't you think -"

But Yong Ha was - he was asleep again, maybe, or looked it; his head was twisted to lie flat against the pillow, his eyes were closed, his right arm was extended over his chest, his right hand lay on his left shoulder with a loose grip. He looked just like he had when Jae Shin had opened the door five, ten minutes ago, but now... now his muscles weren't so rigid. Now his face wasn't so tight. He wasn't so tense, so tightly wound, so far away from _okay_ that Jae Shin could read it on him at a glance.

He looked different with his jeans off, in just a thin t-shirt and boxers. He looked smaller somehow. Quieter. Awake he was loud and rude and brimming with impudence, but with his clothes off, the cotton of his undershirt translucent in the dim light, his skin pale and ashen -

Jae Shin took a deep breath, (and another, and another), and ran a hand down his face. God help him, but he couldn't undo the knot in his gut that had twisted up the second Yong Ha had flashed him that macabre grin as he sat on the counter downstairs. At first he'd figured it had to be annoyance, then worry, then frustration, but even now with Yong Ha asleep and still and calm the knot still weighed on him like a stone.

He lowered himself down onto the mattress and stared at the ceiling in the darkness, listening to Yong Ha breathe. It was still shallow and stuttered but not as bad as it had been and Jae Shin tried not to think about the scar snaking out from under the left sleeve of Yong Ha's undershirt. Tried not to think about the slack of Yong Ha's arm against the sheet. Tried not to think about the look on Yong Ha's face when he'd taken Jae Shin's hand and sat upright, the way he'd gone white and stiff with it.

When he closed his eyes he could see it, the way Yong Ha looked lying on the white sheet in just his t-shirt in boxers. If he tried he could pretend that he was alone in the room, that there wasn't anyone else there, but if he didn't -

Jae Shin rolled over onto his side. Reached out. Laid his hand on Yong Ha's arm, against the skin.

He didn't have to pretend Yong Ha wasn't there, right? Just for once, he wanted to pretend that they were friends again. He wanted to stop feeling stupid. He wanted to be okay.

"You're going to be okay," Jae Shin said.


	18. Croque-en-Bouche

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yong Ha and his brothers (and, for that matter, Jae Shin and _his_ brother) all have similar names because they've been named as per Korean generation naming, where all members of a generation have one of the syllables in their name in common - in this case it's Yong. Why? Mostly because I think it's fun. (Heck, why any of this? Because it's fun!)

He was on the subway, standing squashed in between three ajusshi and a kid wearing a taekwondo uniform, and his phone was buzzing in his pocket. His right hand was hanging onto the bar over his head. His left hand was preoccupied with way too many shopping bags. He was running late and the people around him all smelled like sweat and smoke and his phone was buzzing in his pocket, so when the subway stopped he pushed through the crowd and onto the platform, not giving a damn that it wasn't his stop.

The ringer stopped at the exact moment he managed to wrestle the phone out of his pocket, because of course it did, because of course it would. Like the universe would afford him just that one small token of convenience. "Fuck," he hissed at it, and looked up to watch his train pull out of the station again. "Shit." Sure, the next train would be there in only three minutes, but it was the principle of the thing, god damn it.

A buzz in his palm, and the phone was going off again - he glared at the three syllables on the screen. Grimaced. Swiped the lock screen. Held the phone up to his ear. "What. What do you want."

"Good morning to you too. Having a bad day?"

The clock by the stairs read almost one o'clock. "It's not morning anymore. And my day is fine. What do you want?"

"I need to ask a favor."

"Jesus." It wasn't fair of him. He knew it wasn't fair of him. But four days ago he'd woken up in the morning with his shirt gone, his jeans at the foot of the bed, and one of the most embarrassing memories he'd ever stored in his hippocampus hanging over his head and he just... he hadn't really felt like being compliant for the last couple of days, that's all. "What kind of favor, Shin? It's my day off."

"A customer dropped off an order for delivery today, but I told her I'd have to talk to you before confirming it." Jae Shin's voice was thin and crackling through the cell phone speaker. "It's for Christmas eve."

Yong Ha adjusted his grip on the shopping bags in his left hand. "That's probably fine. We're open that day but we're closing early, right?"

"Yeah. I think Yoon Shik would throttle me if I made him stay past five o'clock. But I looked up what she wanted and it looks really complicated."

"What does she want?" The line went quiet for a second. Yong Ha pulled his phone from his ear and looked at the screen to make sure the call hadn't dropped. "Shin?"

Jae Shin laughed (and hell, his laugh; he hadn't heard that in way too long - a day, maybe - and it killed him every time). "I don't actually remember how to pronounce it. I'm still trying to figure it out - it's been way too long since high school French. Can I text it to you? She wrote it down on a piece of paper for me. I thought she was going to murder me if she kept having to repeat it."

"God forbid," Yong Ha mumbled under his breath. Swallowed. "Yeah, sure."

His phone trilled a quick triplet and he swiped over. Jae Shin hadn't even bothered to type it out, he'd just taken a photo of the piece of paper he'd been given and sent it over. "You're joking," he said into the phone. "A croque-en-bouche?"

"I told you it looked complicated."

The speakers overhead sang as the next train approached. "It's not that bad. Easy enough, just a bunch of choux and pastry cream stacked up." Yong Ha looked up at the LED read-out and bit his lip. "And for Christmas eve? She wants it on Christmas eve?"

"Yeah. What's that noise? Where are you?"

"Chungmuro station," Yong Ha replied. The train spun by and slowed to a stop. It was packed full. Teach him to go shopping in Myeongdong two days before Christmas. "I don't think you can do it, Shin. Don't get me wrong: like I said, it's easy and I can make it - but the caramel's too delicate. It breaks down too quickly. You'd have to finish it there."

He didn't need to see Jae Shin to know the look on his face. "... Right."

Yong Ha stopped. Pulled the phone from his ear and glared at it. "You're joking," he hissed into the mic. "You're seriously asking me -"

"Look, I told her I had to talk to you before I could confirm the order. If you can't do it then you can't do it."

The train pulled away from the platform. Yong Ha leaned against the concrete wall of the station and sighed. "I can't believe you sometimes, Shin."

"Serves you right for coming up with the delivery idea."

"Hey! We all came up with that, it was a joint effort. Yoon Shik -"

"Are you coming in tonight?"

 _Coming in tonight_. It was like a code. Jae Shin meant: are you sleeping at the bakery tonight? But he wasn't going to say it. Not out loud.

Sometimes it was easy to forget how hard it is to be in love with somebody who's never, ever going to love you back, never going to look at you with more than just platonic affection on their face. He liked forgetting a lot better than he'd been the last couple of days, with the memory of Jae Shin leaning over him in the dark of the attic fresh in his mind. Unbuttoning his shirt. Pulling off his jeans.

Yong Ha swallowed and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to drive the image out of his head. "Yeah. I mean - no. I don't know, I'm busy. I'll probably be sleeping at my mom's house."

The speaker crackled as Jae Shin breathed a laugh over the mic on his end of the line. "Let me know when you figure it out. If you're not then that means I can drink as much as I want."

"You shouldn't drink so much."

The speakers sang again to signal the imminent arrival of another train. "I won't if you're there. Who knows what you'll get up to if I get too drunk. I'll wake up in the morning covered in drawings of dicks."

"You severely overestimate my artistic ability." Yong Ha grinned despite himself. "Listen, I'll text you if I'll be coming in. Probably not - like I said, I'll probably be at my mom's. Go ahead and get trashed or something."

"Think about the delivery, okay? I have to confirm with this lady."

"Fine, I'll do it. I have to go, my train's here." He pulled the phone from his ear and swiped to end the call before Jae Shin could reply. Maybe he'd be able to deal with him later, but it was his day off, damn it, and he'd spent the last couple of days unable to get away from - from that jerk, not wanting to get away from him, hating himself for it.

It was never going to happen. There was no way. The best possible ending would be for Yong Ha to just... stay friends with Jae Shin, maybe, but on the periphery. Close enough not to miss him too bad (because he would, he knew - those three and a half years of denying himself contact had been hell, no matter how good the reasoning) but far enough away that he had even half a chance at hiding the parts of himself that Jae Shin didn't want to see.

The train was less packed than its predecessors. He steeled himself and stepped aboard.

Time to go home.

  
The gate was hanging open, which was a godsend - his hands were full - and he could just kick it wider with his heel. He shouldered through the rest of the gap and looked up the walkway. His parents' apartment was on the ground floor of an old brick three story apartment building in one of the back streets of Jongno, somehow big enough to have fit all of them at one time but still somehow smaller every time he came back to visit.

Usually his mother was out in the front courtyard no matter the temperature, doing laundry or hanging things up to dry, or these days just taking a nap on the bench, (she was a big believer in fresh air) but today the courtyard was empty. He blew a strand of hair out of his face and stomped his way up to the front door, which of course was unlocked like always but it didn't do him any good with his hands so full so he just hit the doorbell instead.

The latch clicked and he took a step backward, expecting it to slam open like every time, but instead -

His second oldest brother grinned at him over the threshold. "Hey, maknae. Took you long enough."

Ah, shit. "Yong Jun," Yong Ha said weakly. "How the hell did you convince your wife to let you out of the house?"

Yong Jun shrugged indulgently and reached out a hand to help Yong Ha with his bags. "Good behavior, I guess. Did you get anything for me?"

"You wish." Yong Ha shoved past him into the apartment and kicked off his shoes before dumping the rest of the bags on the floor. "Did you bring your wife with you? I don't hear any children screaming."

"No," Yong Jun said, and Yong Ha tried not to let his relief show too clearly on his face. She was nice, of course, but at some point she'd decided it was going to be her familial duty to find a wife for the youngest son of the Gu family. It wouldn't have been so terrible if she hadn't had the full-throated support of his father. "She's busy."

"Busy? Your wife?" Yong Ha rolled his eyes and pulled his coat off (carefully - his shoulder still wasn't quite up to par). "It's not like you have a billion kids or anything."

His third oldest brother stuck his head into the entry hallway from the kitchen. "Runs in the family," he said, mouth full. "Yong Ho and I are living proof. You'll see, it'll happen to you too."

"Twins?" Yong Ha made a face. "God, I hope not. It's bad enough having twins as siblings, let along as spawn. I'm good with being the fun uncle. What are you eating, Yong Jo?"

Yong Jo held out the pack of peppero and shook it. "Want some? Or is it too tacky for Mister French Bakery?"

"I always want some of what you're eating," Yong Ha shot back, pulling three out of the packaging and tucking one into his cheek like a toothpick. "It's one of the only perks of being the youngest. Where's Mom?"

Yong Jo and Yong Jun looked at each other. "Dad's home," Yong Jo said, and made the kind of complicated facial expression that only a sibling could translate. "So they're either fighting -"

"- or kicking you out of your maknae throne," Yong Jun finished, yanking one of the peppero sticks out of Yong Ha's hand with lightning speed. "Maybe we'll get a sister this time," he said thoughtfully, shoving the entire peppero into his mouth. "My kids could use an aunt to kick around."

"That's gross," Yong Ha said. "And anyway they've already got three aunts to kick around. I don't know what woman is stupid enough to marry into the family, but apparently there are at least four."

Yong Jun threw his arm companionably over Yong Ha's shoulders. "Come on, maknae. You're - what, are you fourteen now?"

"Twenty-six," Yong Jo supplied helpfully, shaking the last peppero into his mouth.

"Twenty-six? Seriously?" Yong Jun looked down at his youngest brother and looked a little impressed. "Jesus, you got old. I wouldn't have expected you to live past eleven what with the level of brattiness you achieved at such a young and tender age."

"Hey!" Yong Ha sneered at him good-naturedly. "I can take care of myself."

"Man, remember that time he almost got beat into soybean paste at school?" Yong Jo nodded, chewing loudly. "Mom almost had a heart attack when he came home all roughed up." He prodded Yong Ha in the arm. "How did you survive that, anyway?"

"That kid," Yong Jun said, nodding at Yong Jo. "The crazy horse. You remember him."

Yong Jo snapped his fingers in excited recognition. "Crazy horse! I remember!" He shook his head at the look on Yong Ha's face. "I'm just giving you shit, maknae."

"We have to find this kid a wife," Yong Jun said, nodding with the manner of a Confucian scholar. "Someone to keep him out of trouble."

"No thanks," Yong Ha retorted, ducking out from under his brother's arm. "I'm doing just fine being a hedonist."

"You think crazy horse has a sister?" Yong Jo asked thoughtfully, looking hopefully into the empty peppero package. "I bet she could keep our maknae in line."

"Woman like that could keep anybody in line."

"He doesn't have a sister, and there's no one on the planet who can keep me in line." Yong Ha rolled his eyes. "So is it just you two, or are Yong Ho and Yong Gi going to roll through the door any minute?"

"Nah, I think we're it for today. Christmas eve is all of us, though." Yong Jo wandered back into the kitchen, dropping the empty peppero package into the trash and digging through the cabinets for more. "You need to watch yourself, maknae. I think Dad's gonna pitch a fit if you don't get married soon."

"He already pitches a fit over my bachelorhood every Christmas," Yong Ha shot back, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the counter. "You think this year's gonna be any different?"

"Maybe if you found a girl," Yong Jun said. "And kept her," he added quickly, as Yong Ha opened his mouth to protest. "See, the key here is to just keep finding the same girl."

Yong Jo shook his head, halfway into one of the cabinets. "He thinks girls are boring. Is Mom out of chalddeok? Man, she always has chalddeok."

"Seriously, though," Yong Jun said to Yong Ha. "If you'd just let my wife introduce you to her friends, you could -"

"No thanks," Yong Ha said, waving a hand. "I'll let you know if I get that desperate. I can find women on my own, it's just finding one that I want to stick around that's the tricky part."

"You have to stop comparing women to Mom," Yong Jo said. "They don't make 'em like that anymore."

For a second, an image of Yoon Shik rose in his mind. "I'm not sure that's true," he said out loud. "But what makes you think I'm looking for someone like Mom?" He grinned, arched his eyebrows, and winked before backing back out of the kitchen and leaving his brothers in his dust.

Yong Jo looked up. "Hey, where are you -"

"Oh, just let him go," Yong Jun sighed, shaking his head. He looked down at his younger brother. "He'll settle down eventually. Not sure it's gonna be with the kind of person Dad approves of, though."

"Pfft, right. Is it even possible to find somebody Dad approves of?"

  
The living room was a mess, like it always was. His mother had replaced the terrible orange throw pillows with equally terrible purple ones. The coffee table was covered with the detritus of a massive Christmas wrapping extravaganza and the tree in the corner flickered on and off as the old lights tried and failed to hold their charge. He used to wish that his mother kept things clean like Jae Shin's mother, but these days he liked it the way it was. The mess felt like home, doubly so during Christmas.

"Mom. Are you ever going to buy new lights for that thing?"

His mother looked up from her spot, sitting crosslegged next to the coffee table - scissors in one hand, tape in the other. "Yong Ha! When did you come in? Be a dear and hold this seam for me, would you?"

Yong Ha squatted on the floor next to her and dutifully placed his thumb over the intersection of two pieces of wrapping paper. "Just a few minutes ago. I didn't know Yong Jun would be here. He ambushed me." He jerked his hand back. "Shi- shoot, watch what you're doing! Don't tape my finger in with it."

"Don't swear in my house, young man." Il Hwa ripped the tape off the roll and smoothed it down with a careful swipe. "You may think you're grown up but you're still my baby."

"Yeah, yeah. I love you too." He slid down to sit crosslegged next to her and watched her wrap the box the rest of the way. "Is that for me?"

"Do you really think I'd tell you if it was?" She twinkled at him and picked up the now-wrapped present, spinning it deftly between her hands before setting it down right side up on the table. "Are you just dropping stuff off for Christmas, or are you staying for dinner?"

"Is Dad home?"

She sighed. Licked her thumb. Reached out and scrubbed an invisible smear of dirt from his cheek. "I talked to him. He'll be nice. Are you staying for dinner?" She paused and glanced over his shoulder. "Did you bring Jae Shin?"

"Jae Shin?" Yong Ha blinked and looked down at the table, a new wave of embarrassment washing over him. His face went hot. "Nah, he's at the bakery still. Why? Should I have?"

Her face went a little strange. "No. I guess not." She picked up the scissors again, looked at them, and then set them back down. "Hae Sook tells me you know about what happened to him."

"Did you know?"

"No. Well... not everything," she conceded. Il Hwa reached out and placed a hand on her youngest son's knee. "He needs you." Yong Ha looked at her hand. Pressed his lips together. "I think you might need him too."

"No," he said. "I really don't." It wasn't a lie. Not really. Yong Ha didn't need Jae Shin at all. He'd proved to himself over and over and over again that he didn't need him, didn't need anybody - he was fine on his own. Hell, on his own he was magnificent.

(But remember the middle of the night when Jae Shin said that now he had someone to help him? Remember that?)

"Hmm," his mother said. She pulled her hand from his knee and reached over to pick up a small trinket from the pile next to her, setting it on a square of wrapping paper and licking her thumb before beginning to fold the paper. "You know, we're not going to rush you. Well, I won't, anyway, and if I have anything to say about it your father won't much either. But even Yong Jo was married by the time he was your age, and he's -"

"Mom, really? Are we going to get into this now?"

She sighed, then smiled up at him. "At least I'm not waiting on you for grandchildren, right?" She wiggled the tiny package in her hand. "If Yong Jun doesn't stop having babies I don't know how we're going to afford Christmas presents next year."

"I'm not sure he knows what causes them."

"Can't think why, with all the practice he gets."

"Mom!"

"What!" she said. "You've seen his wife. Hell, if I were a man -"

Yong Ha reeled theatrically, hand over his heart. "Mother. You are terrible."

"Oh, stop." She shoved a pile of wrapped gifts from the surface of the coffee table into his lap before standing up and brushing nonexistent dust from her skirt. "Go make yourself useful and put these where they belong, I have to go check on dinner. And Yong Ha -"

"Yeah?"

"At least say hello to your father, would you?" She smiled, that tight smile that he'd seen too many times before. "I know you two don't always see eye to eye, but he really does just want what's best for you."

  
In the quiet of the midnight bakery, Jae Shin's phone chirped - once. Twice. Three times.

As he stared at himself in the bathroom mirror while he washed his hands, he pondered the wisdom of leaving his phone at the cash register when he went to the bathroom. Maybe he should have put it in his pocket. Maybe he should have put the ringer on silent. Maybe no one was out in the bakery to pick it up and leave with it.

All other possibilities notwithstanding, his phone was still there when he came back and no one was in the bakery to be bothered by the noise. Small mercies.

He picked it up and it chirped a fourth time, the screen lighting up.

 

* * *

**From: Gu Yong Ha**  
**Sent: 00:47, Dec 24**

Are you there?

**From: Gu Yong Ha**  
**Sent: 00:48, Dec 24**

Who am I kidding, of course you're there. It's not like you have a social life.

**From: Gu Yong Ha**  
**Sent: 00:50, Dec 24**

Wait, are you seriously not there? Why don't you have your phone with you? Have you been mugged? Murdered in cold blood?

**From: Gu Yong Ha**  
**Sent: 00:56, Dec 24**

Text me back when you get this.

* * *

**From: Moon Jae Shin**  
**Sent: 00:57, Dec 24**

I'm here. I haven't been murdered. What do you want?

* * *

**From: Gu Yong Ha**  
**Sent: 00:58, Dec 24**

Have you started drinking yet?

* * *

**From: Moon Jae Shin**  
**Sent: 01:00, Dec 24**

Of course not, the shop's still open. The soju doesn't come out until the doors are locked. Aren't you in bed? Why are you awake?

* * *

**From: Gu Yong Ha**  
**Sent: 01:11, Dec 24**

I can't sleep. Just the thought of you all alone in the bakery makes me go all weepy. Are you lonely? Do you need to cuddle?

* * *

**From: Moon Jae Shin**  
**Sent: 01:13, Dec 24**

Don't be weird.

* * *

**From: Gu Yong Ha**  
**Sent: 01:21, Dec 24**

Fat chance. The heat's broken at my apartment. Can I sleep at the bakery tonight?

* * *

**From: Moon Jae Shin**  
**Sent: 01:24, Dec 24**

Whatever. Bring soju.

* * *

  
He'd expected to have to wait a while after closing for Yong Ha to show up. Assuming he was at home when he'd sent the first text, it would take him at least... what, thirty minutes? to get to the bakery on the subway, and then add a little time to swing by a convenience store for soju... call it forty minutes, maybe? Fifty, tops.

He wasn't expecting fifteen, so he wasn't paying attention when the kitchen door swung open behind him and a soju bottle was set down next to him on the coffee bar.

"That was quick," Jae Shin said, sparing a glance at the soju for only a second before looking up into Yong Ha's face. "Were you already on your way over?"

Yong Ha shrugged with one shoulder and lifted a hand as if to say _you caught me_. "Like I said, you alone in the bakery makes me sad. It's a really lonely visual. The cake-hating man, surrounded only by enemies, not a single friend to be found..." He made a face. "It's like one of those historical dramas that I can't stand, where everybody dies or has their eyes burned out or is like... exiled or whatever."

"How is that like a historical drama?"

"I don't know, I'm just talking shit. Keep up, this isn't new. I never say anything of real value."

"No," Jae Shin said, picking up the soju bottle by its neck and setting it carefully under the counter, "you say a lot that's of real value. It's just usually surrounded by a thick layer of nonsense." He looked up at Yong Ha. "I thought you were staying at your mom's place tonight."

"Nah," Yong Ha said, then rolled his eyes and groaned. "I mean... I was going to, but we're in prime Why Haven't You Found A Wife territory right now. Christmas always brings out the best in my dad. Ever since Yong Jo got married, he's been -"

"Wait," Jae Shin interrupted, holding up a hand. "Are you kidding me? Yong Jo got married? To a human woman fully cognizant of the choice she was making?"

Yong Ha threw up his hands and shook his head. "That all happened while I was in the military, don't ask me how he managed to catch her."

"With a net, probably."

"Anyway, my dad's just been..." Yong Ha rubbed a hand over his face. "It's not important. I mean, you know him. He doesn't yell, he just informs you of the fact that you've misunderstood the nature of reality and kindly requests that you readjust your perspective."

"Yeah," Jae Shin said, staring into the middle distance and losing himself in a particularly unpleasant memory. "I remember that."

"Well, whatever. Like I said, it's not important." Yong Ha adjusted the strap of his messenger bag on his shoulder. "I'm going to bed, all right? Try not to step on anything important when you come up, I plan on doing my best impression of a starfish up there."

Jae Shin made a face. "Don't. I woke up halfway on the floor this morning. I think I got frostbite."

"Pretty sure I'm a grown up," Yong Ha said over his shoulder, "and you can't tell me what to do."

  
When Yong Ha woke up, it wasn't because his alarm was going off. It wasn't because of the sun coming in through the window. For a few seconds he just stared up into the darkness, trying to figure out what had woken him up.

The bed moved.

Jae Shin was sitting up, leaning his weight on one arm. Yong Ha sighed and rolled over, checking the time on his phone. Not even four o'clock in the morning. "Hey," he said, voice still rough. "Go back to sleep."

There was a moment of quiet before Jae Shin turned toward him, eyes glassy, and Yong Ha knew then that he was still asleep. Couldn't focus. Didn't seem to know where he was. Yong Ha pushed himself up on his right elbow and watched him - body tense, eyes bleary and unspectacled but watching. Was he dreaming? Jae Shin had always had nightmares, sure, but he didn't usually get up like this.

"Jae Shin," Yong Ha said into the darkness. "What are you doing?"

But Jae Shin just stared at him curiously, eyes hooded. "Young Shin?"

Shit. Fuck. No. Yong Ha sat up the rest of the way, heart in his throat, and carefully touched Jae Shin's arm. "Jae Shin, no. I'm not your brother. It's me. It's Yong Ha. Remember? Gu Yong Ha?"

Jae Shin sighed and leaned toward him, his eyes squinted and unfocused. "You left," he said.

Yong Ha had never met Young Shin. He'd died five years before Jae Shin had saved him from certain middle school torture. Jae Shin had never mentioned him - maybe once or twice, if that - and he'd only been eight when he'd died, right? When you're eight, maybe dying was a lot like going away. "Shin," Yong Ha said again. "I'm not your brother. It's me, Yong Ha."

A few more seconds of Jae Shin looking at him from under heavy eyelids. "I know," he said, sounding almost awake this time. "I know who you are."

Yong Ha rubbed a hand over his face. "I'm not Young Shin. God, just -" He leaned over. Rested his forehead on Jae Shin's shoulder. "It's me, Shin. It's Yong Ha."

A hand curled over the back of his neck, and Jae Shin leaned his head down to rest his cheek on the crown of his head. "You left," he mumbled. "You left."

Yong Ha screwed his eyes shut. Refused to be disappointed but was anyway, despite himself. "You left me first, asshole."

Jae Shin lay back down, his hand falling from Yong Ha's neck. He blinked slowly up at the ceiling. Closed his eyes. He was falling back under, the tide of sleep washing over him. "Don't leave me again."

"I'm not gonna leave," Yong Ha said, but Jae Shin was asleep again, sinking hard and deep and quick. Yong Ha just sat and watched him for what felt like a long time, chin in his palm, hand over his mouth. Waiting for it to start again. Waiting for the nightmares to come back.

But they didn't. One minute. Two minutes. Five minutes. Seven, and Jae Shin just sighed. Rolled over onto his side. Reached out, and rested his hand on Yong Ha's pillow.

  
When Jae Shin woke up in the morning Yong Ha's head was on his chest, his arm was around his waist, and this time he didn't try to get away - just went back to sleep, and didn't dream. It was christmas eve. He could give himself that much.

  
"Day after tomorrow," Kim Yoon Shik said, standing just outside the front door of the bakery, Seon Joon next to him. It was starting to snow, just a tiny bit, and the heavy clouds blocked out whatever sunlight might still be left in the sky.

"Day after tomorrow," Jae Shin echoed, nodding his head. He was leaning against the door, spinning his keys around on one finger. "Go home to your families. Have a good Christmas. You both have everything?"

They both obediently held up their bags, heavy with cake. "My mom is going to get fat," Yoon Shik said, but he was grinning. "Thanks for everything, boss."

"Yeah, yeah. Don't get all sentimental on me."

"Is Gu Yong Ha going home?" Seon Joon said suddenly, looking back into the bakery through the glass of the door. The front of the bakery was dark, almost all of the lights off or turned down the lowest they would go, but the kitchen was still lit up bright. "Or...?"

"We have one more errand to run," Jae Shin said. "Don't worry about him, I've got it covered. Go home, both of you."

Seon Joon opened his mouth again but Yoon Shik elbowed him viciously. "We're going," he said. "Merry Christmas, boss."

Behind him, in the bakery, the swinging door to the kitchen slammed open. "Moon Jae Shin," Yong Ha yelled, "are you expecting me to be able to lift this damn thing by myself? Do I look like a lizard to you? Do you think I can regenerate limbs?"

"Merry Christmas," Jae Shin said quickly, backing away into the bakery and closing the door. "I have to -"

"Go," Yoon Shik said, grinning and rolling his eyes.

  
"Maybe they're married," Seon Joon said, once they'd gotten a few blocks away.

"Three guesses who wears the pants in _that_ relationship," Yoon Hee replied, hefting the bag in her hand.

  
The croque-en-bouche didn't fit in Jae Shin's car if Yong Ha tried to put it on his lap and it was too delicate to go into the back, so Yong Ha sat in the backseat with it buckled in next to him, keeping at least one hand on it at all times.

"This is nice," Yong Ha said, after a few minutes of silence. "It's like I'm being chauffeured to a Christmas party. With my date, who just happens to be a massive pile of pastry."

"So nothing very different from normal, then."

"Excuse me? Are you honestly implying that I can't get a date?" Yong Ha leaned forward and punched Jae Shin in the shoulder. "I'm Gu Yong Ha! People _fight to the death_  to have a chance with me."

"Don't punch me while I'm driving," Jae Shin growled, struggling with the steering wheel. "It's snowing. I'll run us off the road."

"Are we there yet?"

"God help me I will turn this car around."

"I'll take that as a no."

As if on cue, the navigator dinged and sweetly announced that their destination was on the right.

Getting the croque-en-bouche out of the car was almost harder than getting it in in the first place, but eventually they managed it with minimal casualties (Jae Shin's dignity among their number) and made it into the apartment building, into the elevator, up to the twelfth floor, out into the hallway.

"Not too heavy, is it?" Yong Ha chirped happily, hands full of a small bowl filled with caramel.

"Stop talking," Jae Shin grunted.

The apartment was huge and well-furnished and absolutely filled to bursting with people. Jae Shin froze in the entryway, one shoe still on, so Yong Ha leaned into him. "It's Christmas eve," he murmured in his ear. "There's gonna be people. Let me handle it, all right?"

So Jae Shin hung back and let Yong Ha handle it. When he pulled the box off the croque-en-bouche (with a flourish befitting a ringmaster) the crowd gasped and applauded appreciatively. When he pulled out the caramel and explained how he would spin it around the tower they nodded and listened with rapt expressions.

It went well. He was good at it, and Jae Shin watched him move and wondered if he was wasted, stuck back in the kitchen all the time where no one could see him, where no one could watch him perform like this, where his clean and perfect movements wouldn't be appreciated by anyone but Jae Shin.

Of course, maybe it was better that way.

  
"Let's go home," Yong Ha said, stopping next to the car to pull off his chef coat. "Am I getting paid overtime for this?"

"Of course." Jae Shin hadn't thought about it at all. He opened the door and paused for half a second. "By 'home' do you mean -"

The passenger door opened and Yong Ha looked through the car, staring at Jae Shin with a grimace on his face. "Shit. Yeah. Sorry, not - not home. My mom's house. Do you know -"

"Don't be stupid." He swung himself into the driver's seat and slammed the door, grabbing the seat belt with his left hand. "Of course I know how to get to your mom's house."

Yong Ha closed his door and buckled in, his movements slow. "Are you going home for Christmas?"

"Yeah." The engine roared to life. "Why?"

He just looked out the window at the snow, folding his chef coat into thirds in his lap. "Does your dad get on you about finding a wife?"

"Not when my mom's around," Jae Shin said. The snow had started coming down a little faster and the streets were beginning to whiten. "Whenever he tries she does that one thing, you know, with her mouth -" He gestured at his face "- where her lips go all thin and -"

"Oh god," Yong Ha said, wrapping his arms around himself and shivering. "The mouth thing. I'd forgotten about the mouth thing."

"Except it's directed at my dad, so that's nice at least. He hasn't brought it up in a while." Since last July, actually. They'd fought about it and Jae Shin had quit work in a fit of pique and now... and now he was in the car with Yong Ha again, talking about nothing and everything and somehow things felt almost okay again for the first time in years. (Maybe it had been worth it. Maybe it had all been worth it.) "Is yours still...?"

Yong Ha looked out the window for a minute. "He doesn't like you," he said suddenly, his voice quiet. "Or he doesn't like the bakery, anyway. He doesn't like me working there. It's not a good enough job or something."

"Seriously? Doesn't he know how much I pay you?"

Yong Ha just tightened his mouth and put his elbow on the ledge of the window, resting his chin in his palm. "I don't know if that matters. God, never mind, forget I said anything. It's just obnoxious. He thinks I can't find a wife when actually I -" And then he stopped. Closed his mouth.

"When actually you what?"

"When actually I don't feel like settling down," Yong Ha said. He leaned back in his chair and grinned at Jae Shin. "Come on, a body like this? I was made to be shared."

Jae Shin didn't say anything. There wasn't anything he could think of to say, so he just drove until the navigator dinged and, again, sweetly announced that their destination was on the right.

"Do you want me to go in with you?" Jae Shin said quietly, leaning his arms over the steering wheel and staring up at the lights of the apartment building.

Yong Ha cracked a smile; that odd, cold smile that showed up sometimes when nothing was really that funny. The light from the street lamp just overhead reflected off of his glasses and hid his eyes. "Why?" he said. "Are you offering to be my date?"

That can't have been what he said. He heard him wrong. He had to have heard him wrong. "Your what?"

"My date," Yong Ha repeated, giving him a slow look and arching his eyebrows.

Maybe it was the look on Yong Ha's face when he'd come into the shop last night. Maybe it was the memory of waking up next to him that morning. Maybe Jae Shin was just - just going out of his damn mind, but for a split second... yeah. He kinda did. He did want to pretend to be Yong Ha's date, to get his father to back off for five damn minutes, to act as Yong Ha's shield again.

Yong Ha shook his head and reached down to the floor of the car, hauling his shoulder bag up by the strap. "I'm just fucking with you, Shin. Don't overthink it. There's gonna be too many people in there anyway, what with all four of my brothers and their wives and their billion shrieking children." He pulled the latch on the car door and the light turned on automatically. "I'll be fine. See you the day after tomorrow."

Jae Shin opened his mouth to say something, anything, but the door slammed on whatever he could think of to say.


	19. Deafening Sexual Tension

**From: Gu Yong Ha**  
**Sent: 16:11, Dec 25**

Merry Christmas, Shin. I hope your family isn't as batshit crazy as mine. Did you know that if you feed a small child too many cupcakes the result is technicolor barf? This is a fact I have now learned through hands-on experience and subsequently felt compelled to share with you.

* * *

**From: Moon Jae Shin**  
**Sent: 16:43, Dec 25**

Wow. Thank you. The Christmas miracle I always wanted.

**From: Moon Jae Shin**  
**Sent: 16:45, Dec 25**

... Do I want to know how many cupcakes is too many cupcakes?

* * *

**From: Gu Yong Ha**  
**Sent: 16:58, Dec 25**

No, you absolutely do not. In my defense he looks exactly like his brother, who apparently has still not had any cupcakes whatsoever and is actually playing quietly somewhere else.

**From: Gu Yong Ha**  
**Sent: 17:00, Dec 25**

Never have twins.

* * *

**From: Moon Jae Shin**  
**Sent: 17:12, Dec 25**

I'll try to resist. My mom says to tell you Merry Christmas, so consider yourself told.

**From: Moon Jae Shin**  
**Sent: 17:14, Dec 25**

Also she wants you to ask your mom if she's made any progress on her secret mission, but don't ask me what secret mission because she won't oesffnlhghm gkgkg

* * *

**From: Gu Yong Ha**  
**Sent: 17:17, Dec 25**

.... are you okay?

* * *

**From: Moon Jae Shin**  
**Sent: 17:25, Dec 25**

Yong Ha, this is Jae Shin's mother. Please relay the previously sent message to your mother immediately.

* * *

**From: Gu Yong Ha**  
**Sent: 17:26, Dec 25**

She says she's working on it, and she'll call you later. Right now she's underneath three children of varying sizes and two of them are jumping. Is Jae Shin still alive?

* * *

**From: Moon Jae Shin**  
**Sent: 17:39, Dec 25**

Sorry. I really hate it when she does that. I'll see you at work tomorrow, okay?

**From: Moon Jae Shin**  
**Sent: 17:42, Dec 25**

Merry Christmas.

* * *

  
The day after Christmas, the bakery was quiet. In the first two hours it was open seven people came in. In the second two hours four people came in. By 4:30pm Yoon Shik had cleaned every single dish in the coffee bar, cleaned the glass of the display case three times, swept every inch of the floor, eaten four slices of cake, and narrowly avoided falling asleep on his feet four times. Seon Joon had cleaned every table, washed all the windows, finished one book and started another, and had not managed to avoid falling asleep on his feet.

Gu Yong Ha, for his part, hadn't tried to avoid falling asleep at all.

"What are you doing?"

Yong Ha didn't open his eyes. "What does it look like? I'm sleeping."

"On the counter?"

"Better than the floor."

Jae Shin sighed. Crossed his arms over his chest and glanced out at the bakery through the tinted glass window separating the two spaces. "That slow, huh?"

Yong Ha opened one of his eyes and looked up at him, his vision blurry. He rubbed the other eye with the back of his wrist. "Pretty damn slow, yeah. Why?"

Jae Shin worked his mouth for a second, chewing thoughtfully at the inside of his cheek as he watched Yoon Shik and Seon Joon through the tinted glass window. "How long do you think it'll take to get everything shut down? In the bakery, I mean."

"What?"

"Most of it's done by the time I get here to close up," Jae Shin said, leaning back against the counter next to where Yong Ha was stretched out on the butcher block, his knees hanging off the end. "Seon Joon does all the dishes in the front, you've already taken care of all the ovens and everything. I just clean a little, count the money, take out the prep racks."

Yong Ha sighed and sat up, scratching his head. "I don't know. On a normal day maybe half an hour or an hour. Right now most of it's done, to be honest... yeah, I'm lazy, but I wouldn't be napping on the counter if there was still a lot of work left to do." He narrowed his eyes and watched Jae Shin for a second. "Why?"

"I have to go check something. I'll be back in a minute." And he was gone, the swinging kitchen door the only evidence he'd been there at all.

The floorboards creaked overhead and Yong Ha sat on the counter thinking for a moment or two. Slipped off the counter. Stuck his head out the door into the bakery. "Hey. Yoon Shik."

Yoon Shik didn't look up from the magazine he was reading. "Hm?"

"Hypothetically speaking, what else would need to get done before you could close down the bakery completely? Like closed down for the night."

This got Yoon Shik to look up. He blinked and glanced at the display case. "We'd have to put away everything that hasn't been sold. Clean the espresso machine. Count the money, I guess...? There are no dishes to do, I already did them all. Why?"

"Maybe start packing up the leftovers," Yong Ha said, then nodded at Seon Joon. "Go wake up the sea cucumber and have him help. Just the stuff in the back to start. Oh, shush," he added, after getting a look at Yoon Shik's expression. "I'm Gu Yong Ha. It's a hunch. Go with it."

By the time Jae Shin thundered back down the stairs, slammed open the door, burst back into the bakery, Yoon Shik and Seon Joon had managed to surreptitiously pack up and put away two thirds of the unsold contents of the display case. "Let's close up," he barked, rolling up his sleeves. "It's slow as hell and you have no idea how much we made over the past three weeks. How long will it take to break everything down?"

Yoon Shik and Seon Joon glanced at each other. "A few minutes," Yoon Shik offered, after an almost imperceptible pause. "There isn't much left in the case -" because Yong Ha had told them to put it away, but he wasn't about to announce that "- and it's been slow enough that there really isn't any cleaning left. Just the cash drawer and the rest of the case and the espresso machine, really," he said, counting them off on his fingers.

"All right," Jae Shin said. "Seon Joon, go get that jerk out from the back and get everything in the case packed up. Yoon Shik, you're on the espresso machine. I'll take care of the drawer. Do any of you have anywhere to be tonight?"

"My mother and younger brother are at my grandma's place in Yongin," Yoon Shik said, shrugging. "I was just going to go home and... read or something."

"Classes don't start again until the third," Seon Joon said, his hand on the kitchen door. "I'll ask Gu Yong Ha, but I think he was saying something about dropping dead after work today."

"Doesn't sound like a particularly pressing engagement to me." Jae Shin clapped his hands together and strode to the front of the bakery, where he flipped the sign and turned the dead bolt. "Listen, you've all been amazing -"

"Thank you," Yong Ha said, coming out of the kitchen with Seon Joon following close behind.

"- and like I was saying, you have no idea how much we made over the past three weeks," Jae Shin continued, shooting Yong Ha a glare as he made his way back behind the counter to the cash drawer. "Let's close up and go get barbecue, on me. Anything you want, as much soju as you want, don't worry about it. It's covered. And I'll be paying you for the rest of your normal shifts."

Yong Ha and Yoon Shik looked at each other. "Okay," Yong Ha said slowly. "Who are you, and what have you done with Moon Jae Shin?"

"Ha ha," Jae Shin said, popping the cash drawer open. "That's hilarious. You're supposed to be packing up."

"I'm serious," Yong Ha said, wandering up to him and prodding him experimentally in the ribs. "Have you been abducted? Replaced by some kind of malevolent alien being?"

"I'm not that bad of a boss," Jae Shin growled, flipping through the stacks of bills.

"I know." Yong Ha looped an arm around his waist, stood on his tiptoes, and kissed him sweetly on the cheek. "You're the best. I want beef."

"Get off me," Jae Shin stuttered, elbowing him in the side. "Go help Seon Joon."

  
"Wait, no," Yong Ha slurred, slumping over the table. He held a hand up, head bobbing and weaving. "That's so sad. Is he gonna be okay?

It was almost midnight, and they were on their fourth round of soju and their third round of meat. For someone so short Yoon Shik could eat more barbecue than the rest of them combined, and somehow could hold his liquor better than either Yong Ha or Jae Shin. (Seon Joon wasn't drinking, and Yong Ha mocked him mercilessly for it.)

"Shut up," Jae Shin mumbled. He picked up his soju glass and clicked it on the table a few times in front of Seon Joon. "Hey. Maknae. It's all you."

"I can't believe you told them that I'm younger than you," Seon Joon hissed at Yoon Shik, picking up the closest bottle of soju and filling up Jae Shin's cup. Yoon Shik just grinned at him around a mouth full of barbecue.

"No you shut up, Shin," Yong Ha growled at him. "And you too, sea cucumber. I'm talking to Yoon... to Yoon Shik over here." He turned back toward Yoon Shik and spilled a little soju on the table with the momentum. "So? Your younger brother. Is he gonna be okay?"

Yoon Shik made a face and pulled another strip of meat off the grill in the middle of the table, settling it carefully into the lettuce leaf in his left hand. "It's 50-50 right now," he said. "The doctors say we're through the worst of it, but he could relapse at any time. He was able to travel at least a little though, just down to Yongin for Christmas, so that's a good sign. He's not, you know, hooked into any machines right now."

Yong Ha reached out and pulled a second piece of meat off the grill and stuffed it clumsily into Yoon Shik's lettuce. "Eat," he said weepily. "Keep up your strength. You have to be strong."

"Don't be weird," Jae Shin grumbled at him. "I'm cutting you off."

"You're heartless." Yong Ha put a hand over his face and slumped over onto Jae Shin's shoulder. "It's so sad. It's not fair. And anyway I clearly remember you saying as much soju as I want." He picked up his head and glared at Seon Joon. "Right, cucumber? You heard it too. As much soju as we want."

"That's what I heard," Yoon Shik confirmed happily, pushing his shot glass over toward Seon Joon. "Fill 'er up, cucumber."

"Don't," Seon Joon growled, but filled up the glass anyway. "I'm only younger than you by two months. And I'm not a cucumber."

"Oh," Yoon Shik said, the single syllable loaded with hidden meaning.

Yong Ha looked back and forth between them for a second before elbowing Jae Shin conspiratorially. "So are we ever going to address the deafening sexual tension between these two?"

"What?" all three of them said in unison.

"I mean come on," Yong Ha argued, gesturing wildly with his chopsticks. Jae Shin had to duck to avoid being stabbed in the eye. "You've obviously been friends for a while, probably a long time. You've got all this history that we don't know about. You can have whole conversations without even opening your mouths. You bicker all the time. You spend all this time together outside of work. You're probably secretly in love with each other or something."

"Our sexual tension?" Yoon Shik said. "Our sexual tension." He bent over and laid his forehead gently on the table. "Our sexual tension."

"Don't," Seon Joon said dangerously, glancing down at him.

"Our sexual tension." His voice was muffled as he spoke into the table. "It's deafening, Joon. Our deafening sexual tension."

"Okay, that's it," Jae Shin said, grabbing Yong Ha by the upper arm and standing up with him in tow. He dug around in the pocket of his jeans for a second before throwing a couple of bills down on the table. "This'll cover the cab home for both of you, and hopefully whatever else you might want to eat or drink here. We'll stay closed tomorrow, too, but I'll pay you for the shifts you would have worked. I just don't trust this asshole to make anything palatable with the hangover he'll definitely wake up with."

"I am not that drunk," Yong Ha protested, grappling ineffectually with Jae Shin's fist around his arm. "I'm fine. I can catch a whole fish and then wrestle it to the ground in front of its family."

"I don't even know what that's supposed to mean," Jae Shin shot back. "I'm taking him home -"

"To the bakery? To sleep together, and discuss our sexual tension?" Yoon Shik mumbled under his breath, and Seon Joon kicked his ankle under the table.

"- and you two should get home soon too. It's late."

"Go make out or something," Yong Ha sang happily, waving a hand as Jae Shin dragged him away. "You pack of crazy kids."

"Stop telling them to make out," Jae Shin was hissing at him as they were leaving, "it's weird, and you're drunk."

After a moment, the conversation in the restaurant swelled in volume again as the other customers slowly lost interest in the spectacle. Yoon Hee picked her head up off the table and glared at Seon Joon. "Ow," she said pointedly, reaching down to rub her ankle.

"They were going to hear you," Seon Joon replied defensively. He gathered up the emptied soju bottles and industriously began to recap them. "This one still has a little bit. Did you want it?"

"No," Yoon Hee replied, picking up her still-full shot glass and holding it up to him to illustrate. "I'm good. I want you to drink it."

Seon Joon went a little green. "I'd rather not."

"Come on," Yoon Hee wheedled, nudging him with her elbow. "Are you trying to take advantage of me? Plying me with liquor and sexual tension?" She arched her eyebrows at him. "It's deafening, Joon. Don't forget."

"Yoon Hee..."

"Yeah, yeah." She knocked back the final shot, set the glass down on the table. Scooped up the bills. Got to her feet, hair swinging in her eyes, elbows loose, eyes hooded. She grinned down at Seon Joon, that pixie smile that showed up sometimes when she knew she was acting like a shit, and held out her hand to him. "Let's share a cab."

"Okay," Seon Joon said stupidly, and took it.

By the time the cab pulled up in front of Yoon Hee's apartment building she'd fallen asleep, her head on Seon Joon's shoulder. "Hey," he murmured, shaking her. "You're home."

She just sighed and shook her head sleepily, leaning her face into his chest. His face went hot and he swallowed. "Here," he said quickly, throwing a 10,000 won note at the driver. "I'll be right back. Wait here, will you?"

She wasn't heavy, and she could walk all right if he propped her up, but the building didn't have an elevator and her family's apartment was on the fifth floor. It took some doing to get all the way up and by the time the door clicked open with her key Seon Joon felt just about ready to lay down and die. But he didn't - just carefully helped her with her shoes, walked her into her bedroom, laid her down gently on the mattress. Stood up, or tried to.

"Hey," Yoon Hee sighed, her hand tangled in his sleeve. He froze, staring down at her - the moonlight through the window was shining a halo in her hair, her eyes were dark, her lips were parted. "Hey. Don't leave me alone, Joon."

"I can't stay," he whispered, not knowing why he was whispering. The apartment was empty except for them, but somehow the darkness made him feel like he had to be quiet. "Your mother isn't home, and I'm not -"

"Just sleep on the couch or something," she mumbled, tugging on his jacket, propping herself up on one elbow, bringing her face up toward him like a flower turning to face the sun. "Don't leave me alone."

He swallowed. Kneeled down on one knee. Carefully disentangled her fingers from his jacket. "All right," he said, his voice soft. "I have to go tell the taxi to leave, but I'll be right back."

The day after Christmas, Lee Seon Joon spent all night on the couch in Kim Yoon Hee's apartment. Stared at the ceiling. Didn't sleep.

  
"I'm fine," Yong Ha repeated, for what may have been the forty-seventh time.

"You can barely walk," Jae Shin said.

"Your face can barely walk," Yong Ha shot back, and giggled.

The bakery was dark and the air was cold and Jae Shin's key kept sticking in the lock and it was only by the grace of god that they made it through the kitchen, across the bakery, up the attic stairs without tripping over something, but somehow they'd made it. Jae Shin had had to practically drag Yong Ha up each step, but they'd made it, and now they were in the dim light of the attic, scrounging through their respective piles of clean laundry for something to change into.

"Hey," Yong Ha said. "Hey. I don't have any t-shirts. Can I borrow something?"

The buttons on Jae Shin's shirt seemed to disagree with his fingers. "Can't you sleep in your undershirt or something?"

"I'm out of clean undershirts." Yong Ha grinned at him, an expression equal parts impudence and embarrassment and drunkenness. "I'm naked under my clothes."

"Everyone's naked under their clothes." Jae Shin glared down at the clothing in his hand, not really seeing it. (Everyone was naked under their clothes. Everyone. It was a stupid thing to say, a stupid thing to think about.) "Don't be stupid."

"Yeah, but I'm really really naked under my clothes. More than normal. Come on, Shin, have a heart - I'm drunk as hell and I just want to wear a shirt to bed. It's December and it's cold."

"We have floor heating. Don't be a baby."

"Ugh. Fine. You're the worst."

"What?" Jae Shin turned around, t-shirt in hand, and -

\- and Yong Ha was struggling with the buttons of his shirt, most of them already undone, his shirt hanging open to expose a narrow line of skin. He glanced up and grinned, lopsided and sleepy - "Don't get any ideas." - and the last button slipped free. He sighed and pulled the sleeves down his arms, pulled a face of awkward discomfort as he shrugged off the shirt, let it fall to the floor.

The t-shirt dropped out of Jae Shin's hand. "Jesus," he choked out.

He'd forgotten. Damn him to hell, he'd forgotten. But now Yong Ha's shirt was off, and the scar over his shoulder was - it was smaller than he'd expected, actually. Most of it was perfect and surgical, so faint as to be nearly invisible; a curving, silver half moon around the ball of his shoulder. But around that was the rest of it, old and ugly and the kind of scar you get when something very sharp and very hot hits you very, very hard.

Yong Ha looked at him, then glanced down at himself. "Yeah," he said casually, undoing the button of his fly with one hand. "It's kind of gnarly, isn't it? All the girls love it. It makes me look tough." He winked. "Don't tell them otherwise, all right? Can't have 'em thinking I'm not some kind of bad ass warrior or something."

"Are you okay?"

"As okay as I was five minutes ago," Yong Ha shot back, stepping out of his jeans and tumbling headlong onto the bed. "By which I mean drunk as hell and tired as shit. Get undressed and turn the light off before I murder you."

It took a second for Jae Shin to recover, for him to come back to himself - Yong Ha lay on his back on the mattress with his eyes closed, head turned to one side, the scar bright and shining in the dim light, and hell if Jae Shin could manage to look at anything else - before struggling into a t-shirt, switching off the light, flopping down on the mattress next to him. Jae Shin turned his head to look at him and he was right there. He was right there. Eyes closed, face lifted up toward heaven like an angel in some renaissance painting, and his throat -

\- god, he was so drunk. Jae Shin rolled over onto his side and watched Yong Ha breathe for a few seconds, the smooth in and out of his diaphragm, the curve of his lips, the way the scar on his shoulder pulled at his skin. He wanted to reach out, to ask him what happened? What the hell happened? What the hell happened to you, god damn it, you used to be so pale and perfect and rude and untouchable and now look, now you're... now you're pale and perfect and rude and someone fucking _dared_  to touch you.

Jae Shin lay back against his pillow and screwed his eyes shut and tried not to think about it, tried not to think about the kinds of things that left scars like that. Yong Ha had said he remembered every second. Every god damn second, and he didn't want to talk about it. Gu Yong Ha, the kid who would milk every stubbed toe, every papercut, every skinned elbow for every drop of sympathy he could get, and he didn't want to talk about it.

He opened his eyes, turned his head. Watched Yong Ha breathe. Looked at the way the scar on his shoulder pulled at his skin. Looked at the divot of his collar bone, the curve of his chest, the plane of his stomach, the way the elastic of his boxers was suspended slightly between his hip bones. He was pale and perfect and rude and someone had fucking dared to touch him.

He smelled like salt and smoke and lemon soju, and he was right there. He was right there. (He was right there.) His glasses were off. His shirt was lying in a heap at the foot of the bed. He was older now, they were both older (and wiser and stupider and somehow more distant than they'd been even before they met the first time) but if not for the scar this could have been Nonsan all over again. All over again, and god, god, Jae Shin could still remember the taste of Yong Ha's skin and the feel of him, the feel of him, the way he moved, the warmth of his skin under his hand, and sometimes when they were alone like this and Yong Ha was getting too close and his hands were warm and his skin was soft and his eyes were hooded and he talked like they were lovers -

"Shin, I'm serious," Yong Ha sighed, making a face and throwing a forearm over his eyes. "Turn off the light."

Jae Shin swallowed. "Yeah, yeah." Reached up and turned off the light.

"'S better," Yong Ha mumbled, and rolled over. Threw his left arm drunkenly over Jae Shin's waist. Tucked his right shoulder under Jae Shin's arm. Laid his cheek on Jae Shin's chest. "Don't wake me up in the morning," he slurred. "I plan to have died peacefully in my sleep."

God damn it. Jae Shin carefully, carefully, carefully rested his hand on Yong Ha's left shoulder. Breathed in the smell of salt and smoke and lemon soju. Fisted his right hand in the sheet. Held his breath.

All the times Yong Ha had blown the words out of him, flustered the hell out of him, scared the living daylights out of him. All those times he'd been unable to look away from him, been unable to stop watching him. In July Yong Ha sat across the table from him in a restaurant and Jae Shin hadn't been able to keep himself from reaching out and grabbing hold of him. In September Yong Ha had taken his glasses off in Jae Shin's kitchen and it was all he could do not to push his chair back and stand up and walk into the kitchen and go to him. In October Yong Ha had stood up next to him, left arm held tight to his ribs, and Jae Shin hadn't been able to stop noticing, stop watching him, stop worrying. In November Yong Ha had turned up in the bakery at two o'clock in the morning under the pretense of working on the Christmas menu and when he'd smiled and reached out and slipped his hand around Jae Shin's elbow Jae Shin hadn't been able to bring himself to step away.

Three weeks ago Yong Ha had turned up in the bakery at two o'clock in the morning furious and drunk as hell and when Jae Shin had tried (he'd tried, he really had) to find somewhere else to sleep Yong Ha reached out for him instead. Two weeks ago Jae Shin had woken up in Yong Ha's arms and hated himself for how good it was. One week ago Yong Ha had pulled himself up onto the counter and needed help getting down and when Jae Shin wrapped his hands around his waist he didn't want to help him down, didn't want to let him go, just wanted to stand there for a while with his hands around Yong Ha's body - and later, upstairs, in the attic, Yong Ha had been... he'd been something. He'd been something else. He'd been himself - tired and hurting and angry and broken down, but more himself than Jae Shin had seen in a long time.

An hour ago Yong Ha had sat next to him in the restaurant and matched Yoon Shik shot for shot and at the end of the night, the end of the night, they'd come back to the attic and now Yong Ha was curled up against him and he didn't want to be anywhere else.

Jae Shin had never once been in love, never wanted to get close to anyone, but the past few months of the growing ache in his chest, the last four years of missing Yong Ha so bad it was like a knife -

Fuck.

Of all the people in the world he could have fallen in love with. God damn it. God damn it. God damn it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, it took him long enough.


	20. The End of the Beginning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter of part two! Please _please_ keep in mind that everything will turn out all right in the end.
> 
> (Also: oh my god, everybody. 100+ kudos? I LOVE YOU. You deserve better than this ridiculous fic.)

If Jae Shin thought things had been difficult before, they were nearly impossible now.

A few weeks ago the thought of Yong Ha up and leaving at any sign of Jae Shin possibly being sorta kinda maybe a little bit gay had been a constant, niggling worry at the back of his head, sure, but really more something that he tried to stuff back into a drawer and shut away than anything. It wasn't important, he just needed to act normal and if Yong Ha saw something that wasn't there he could just roll his eyes and mock him for it for a few days and it would all blow over eventually. But now he didn't know what 'acting normal' meant anymore when everything Yong Ha did, everything he said, every time he moved or sighed or cracked a joke or laughed at him or (god, god) reached out and touched him made him feel like he was filling up with honey and static. What was normal now? Was anything normal? Could anything be normal?

He didn't know what 'acting normal' meant anymore but now they were most of the way through January and for some reason Jae Shin hadn't been able to stop sleeping in the attic. He told himself that it was because all his stuff was there, that it was too annoying and inconvenient to pack everything back up and take it home, that it was such a damn time-saver to just be able to tumble up one flight of stairs and fall into bed after a long day. He knew it wasn't normal. There was no 'acting normal' in the way he went to sleep every single night just upstairs from the bakery, in a room filled with office supplies and filing cabinets, on a mattress next to some kid he used to know.

But Yong Ha had kept sleeping in the attic too. It wasn't just Jae Shin carrying on. When Jae Shin climbed the stairs every night Yong Ha was already asleep on the mattress, sometimes with a book open on his chest, sometimes with his glasses still on, (sometimes in nothing but his boxers and the covers twisted around him). Jae Shin hadn't asked why. He wasn't sure he wanted to know.

He wasn't worried anymore about Yong Ha seeing something that wasn't there. He was worried about him seeing something that was there, whatever it was, growing and swelling and unrelenting like a tumor just below the surface. He was worried about slipping up, about looking at Yong Ha for too long, about saying something stupid. He was worried. He was worried. He was worried.

"Looking a little grim there, boss," Yoon Shik said, shuffling a few pages of newspaper aside and setting a demitasse cup topped with whipped cream on the table in front of him. "Is the world ending?"

"Not yet." Jae Shin reached out and turned the demitasse cup in its saucer. Opened his mouth to say something, but then closed it again. Glanced up at Yoon Shik. "Hey. Ah. Has..." He paused. Picked up the cup. Looked at it as though he were trying to count the individual molecules of caffeine. "Has he given you any shit for the sexual tension thing?"

"Who?" Yoon Shik blinked. "Gu Yong Ha? Oh. No, it's been fine. I mean, he keeps winking at me, but that's really not that different from normal. Why?"

"Just tell me if he does, all right?" He glanced up. "Thanks for the coffee. How are things going?"

Yoon Shik shrugged and hugged the tray against his chest. "Besides the deafening sexual tension?" He blew a strand of hair out of his face and grinned. "It's fine. It's slower than it was in December, but if we were still going at that pace I would have died or quit by now." He looked over his shoulder toward the kitchen. "How are you and Gu Yong Ha?"

Jae Shin choked a little on his coffee. "What?"

"Never mind." Yoon Shik grinned sheepishly and shook his head, waved a hand. "Forget I said anything. Let me know if you need anything else, all right?"

And he was gone, back to the coffee bar. Jae Shin looked down at the newspaper spread out on the table in front of him, not really making sense of any of it. That was good, anyway; part of him had expected Yong Ha to start making some kind of trouble after that stupid comment he'd made at the barbecue restaurant the day after Christmas, but nothing had happened. Jae Shin picked up the demitasse cup and watched the whipped cream dissolve for a second before knocking the remaining coffee back like a shot of soju.

It was the shadow that gave it away. "Can I help you?" Jae Shin said, setting the cup carefully back down onto its saucer.

"It's creepy how you do that," Yong Ha said behind him.

"Maybe try not standing directly in front of a lightbulb and casting a shadow over what I'm reading."

Jae Shin looked up at him and instantly regretted it. Yong Ha looked - hell, he looked exactly the same as he always did, and it was terrible. His hair was just a little tousled, his glasses were streaked with what was probably cooking oil, there was a smudge of cocoa powder at the place where his jaw met his throat. The sleeves of his chef coat were rolled up to his elbows, his wrists were thin, his long white apron was covered with splatters of chocolate and raspberry sauce. Jae Shin felt like he'd been looking through Yong Ha for fifteen years and now when he finally took the time to actually look at him, it was... it was a bad idea, that's all. A terrible idea. Horrible.

Maybe if Jae Shin just didn't look at him, he'd be fine. It would be fine. "Do you need something?" He hadn't stared at Yong Ha for too long before saying something, right? This was the worst.

Yong Ha twisted his face thoughtfully. "I could do with getting laid," he said casually, pulling out the chair next to Jae Shin and falling into it.

Shit. His voice. Not looking at him wasn't going to help at all, was it. "Wait, what?" Jae Shin stuttered, the words finally registering.

"You're a lovely roommate, don't get me wrong, but I just haven't been experiencing the amount of sexual activity in my life that I've come to expect." He grinned brightly. "Ha, that I've _come_  to expect. I didn't even do that on purpose. God, I'm even hilarious on accident. How do you handle how wonderful I am?"

"I don't," Jae Shin said, staring back down at the newspaper spread out in front of him. "It's not something I'm capable of handling. What are you doing here?"

"I work here," Yong Ha replied promptly. "You might know the owner. Kind of an asshole, a little taller than me, likes long walks on the beach and ruining fun."

"That's hilarious." Without thinking, Jae Shin stuck the pad of his thumb between his lips and reached out, scrubbed the smudge of cocoa powder off of Yong Ha's jaw. It was something his mother might have done, and he didn't even realize he'd done it until he looked up and Yong Ha was staring at him, an unreadable expression on his face. "You had something," Jae Shin said quickly, gesturing stupidly at his own face. "It's gone now, don't worry about it."

"Thanks," Yong Ha said and god, Jae Shin had fucked up - Yong Ha's voice sounded tight and uncertain. "I mean -"

"If you're trying to get laid, you could just move out of the attic," Jae Shin said, looking down and flipping over the newspaper to cover for himself. He could feel the skin under his collar heating up, could feel his diaphragm tightening up with nerves. (Please, please don't let him hiccup now of all possible times. He was twenty-eight goddamn years old and he almost had it under control.) "We're not so busy anymore. You don't have to be to the bakery so early."

"All my stuff is here," Yong Ha retorted, leaning over and resting his elbows on the table. "It's too annoying and inconvenient to pack it all up and take it home. And anyway," he added, tugging one of the pages of the newspaper toward him, inclining his head to read one of the articles, "it's such a damn time-saver to just tumble down the stairs to the kitchen in the morning. You know?"

Jae Shin looked at him out of the corner of his eye. Yong Ha squinted at the small type for a few seconds before sighing and pulling the thick-framed glasses from his face. Remember the first time he'd taken off his glasses, standing lazily in Jae Shin's kitchen? He'd been turned upside down then, had almost stood up and - and what had he wanted to do, anyway? Jae Shin couldn't remember now. These days Yong Ha always just looked like himself, glasses or no glasses. Pale and perfect and rude. "I guess," he said.

"Besides," Yong Ha twinkled brightly, turning his head to glance up at Jae Shin, "it's kind of like old times, isn't it? Like our golden college days. I guess I'm too nostalgic." But then he was pushing the chair back and sliding his glasses back up the bridge of his nose, standing up, reaching behind his back to struggle with the strings of his apron. "Hey, it's about 5:45. I think I'm going to go out and find something to eat, but I'll be back at about -"

Jae Shin stood up quickly, catching himself just a half second too late. "I was going to order something," he said, almost tripping over himself. "For everybody, I mean. If you wanted I could get something for you too. Don't I owe you some undefined amount of jjajangmyeon?"

"You remember that?" For a second the look on Yong Ha's face was that unreadable expression again, eyes wide and guarded behind his glasses, but then he was grinning, shaking his head. "Yeah, sure. I haven't had Chinese in a while. I could do with a meal someone else paid for."  


  
"This is painful," Yoon Shik sighed, watching Yong Ha and Jae Shin across the bakery while pretending to clean the espresso machine. "I don't think they even realize how hard this is to watch."

"So stop watching," Seon Joon mumbled under his breath, slipping by Yoon Shik on his way to the display case with a tray of petit fours.

"Are you kidding?" Yoon Shik whipped his head around to glare at Seon Joon's back. "This is better than a drama."

  
  
He'd lied. He had lied through his teeth and he was maybe going to go to hell for it. If he still went to mass with his mother he might have even mentioned it in confession, but he didn't, and he wouldn't. (And really, would he ever be able to say it out loud?)

Yong Ha stayed in the attic for a lot of reasons. Sure, maybe some of them were that all his stuff was there, that moving it was too annoying and inconvenient; that it was such a damn time-saver to just tumble down the stairs to the kitchen in the morning; that he was nostalgic for his college days, back when he and Jae Shin had shared that tiny weird dorm room with the awkwardly shaped window that didn't open all the way and the mini-fridge that never really worked properly and the mattresses that creaked and complained with the smallest of movements.

But mostly it was because he missed Jae Shin so bad he could taste it, bitter and sharp in the back of his throat, and if he could find a way to reach out and hold onto even the tiniest chance to spend time with him he'd take it. Maybe it was the time, the close proximity, the way Jae Shin had grown up and matured and took care of the kids in a way that could only be called paternal. Maybe it was the warmth in the bed at seven o'clock in the morning, the way Jae Shin responded to his "good morning" with a sigh and a little tired noise even when he was still mostly asleep. Maybe it was those times in the middle of the night, in the very darkest part of the early morning, when despite everything Jae Shin's nightmares got so bad that Yong Ha woke up.

The first night he'd slept in the attic it had scared the hell out of him. They'd always kind of freaked him out - the way Jae Shin would tighten up as he sank into REM sleep, the way he'd stop breathing sometimes, the way sometimes he would breathe so, so fast - and they never really went away, even when he'd taken a sleeping pill. But the night after everyone had found out about what had happened to him, the night Yong Ha had gotten way too drunk and barged in where he wasn't wanted -

Yong Ha had never seen Jae Shin cry, not once. He was always locked up tight, a closed book kept under a stone at the bottom of a well. But he cried then, and not the quiet, gentle weeping of someone grieving. It had been more like desperation, like an animal caught in a trap. Yong Ha had barely slept at all and it had been all he could do to just hold onto Jae Shin's wrists, to keep him down, to calm him down.

It had started with a sigh in the dark. Every night since, Yong Ha startled awake every time Jae Shin sighed in his sleep, but it had never been that bad again. He'd sigh in his sleep every night. He'd tighten up. He'd stop breathing, and every night Yong Ha had to stare down that old choice. (He'd been making it since the very first time they'd slept in the same room, since the very first time he'd woken up to the nothing-sound of Jae Shin panicking quietly in the dark.) Back when they were friends it wasn't even a choice at all, it was just what he needed to do so he did it. But now they were... they were something else, something strange and brand new and messed up, and so when Jae Shin sighed in his sleep and tightened up and stopped breathing Yong Ha had to decide all over again whether he could do it. Whether he could take care of him again.

He'd almost managed to forgive Jae Shin everything and these days he needed to be next to him almost as much as he needed to breathe - to keep him calm, to take care of him, to keep an eye on him. So he stayed, and he lied, and he tried not to think about what would happen when Jae Shin decided to go back home to his own apartment.

  
  
"Roll over."

Yong Ha opened his eyes in the pitch black of the nighttime attic. "What," he said, barely half awake.

Something nudged his shoulder. "You're on my side." Jae Shin's voice. "Roll over. I need to go to bed."

He sighed and rolled over. "You could've just said you didn't want to cuddle," he mumbled rudely into his pillow.

Silence for a few seconds, broken only by the rustling of blankets. "Yeah," Jae Shin said, finally. He sounded exhausted. Sick. Nervous, in a weird way that Yong Ha couldn't quite place. "Go back to sleep."

  
  
Every few days Jae Shin started wondering again if he should just say something. The worst that would happen was that Yong Ha would leave again, right? He'd have to find a new pastry chef, sure, but at least everything would be out in the open. Maybe it would be good. Maybe it would be a good thing, knowing for sure whether or not this was going anywhere.

But then that woman would come into the bakery in the late evening and he'd remember when she'd told him that her husband wouldn't let her buy cake anywhere else, not anymore. He'd remember why he was doing this. He'd remember that he couldn't possibly take the chance.

So instead he tried spending more time outside of the bakery during the day, when Yong Ha was there. It was easier that way. Harder for him to slip up and do something stupid. He wasn't ready to stop sleeping in the attic, but at least when he came up to bed Yong Ha was usually already asleep. Anything Jae Shin did or said by accident he could wave away as something misremembered, or something he did while dreaming. When he woke up in the morning Yong Ha would have already gotten up, would be down in the bakery making a ruckus in the kitchen, and he would shower. Get dressed. Gather up what he needed, and go home to his apartment to work until it was time to go back and take over from Seon Joon for closing.

On a Saturday in the middle of February things finished up early, and instead of staying at home he went to the bakery. He couldn't not go. The air felt electric, like a storm was coming even though the sky was clear, and he couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't right.

When Jae Shin walked in the door the bakery was humming quietly - not loud, not silent, but somewhere in the in between. Maybe a dozen people scattered at tables, talking and studying and eating and looking out the window. A man, standing at the front counter.

"I'm sorry," Yoon Shik was saying, hands up, words slow. "I don't understand." The man leaned in toward him and repeated himself, whatever he'd said, but he was facing away so Jae Shin couldn't hear him.

The space between the door and the coffee bar only took a dozen steps to cross. "Can I help you?" he said, making eye contact with Yoon Shik first before looking up into the man's face.

He was tall. Blonde. Thin. Obviously well-muscled even under his thick wool pea coat, under his lumpy gray sweater that looked strangely familiar somehow. His eyes were blue and his cheekbones were high and he - he could've been a goddamn model. "What kind of so-called French bakery wouldn't have francophone staff?" the man spat at him. "Do you at least speak French?"

"Some." Jae Shin could feel Yoon Shik's eyes go wide as he stared up at them and hell if he was going to show how rattled he was. "Can I help -"

"Is this Yong Ha Gu's bakery?" the man interrupted, rolling his eyes. "I'm really not interested in standing around talking to the help."

"I'm the owner," Jae Shin said, swallowing the wave of anger that was boiling up his throat. "But yes, he's the patissiere here. Yoon Shik," he added, in Korean, "go get that jerk out of the back."

"Gu Yong Ha?" Yoon Shik stuttered, taking a nervous step backward. "You mean Gu Yong Ha, right?"

"Are there any other jerks in the back I should know about?" Jae Shin knew he shouldn't have snapped, but something here wasn't right and he couldn't shake the feeling. "Yes, him."

The man sighed. Stuck his hands in his pockets. Looked across the bakery, out the window. Jae Shin watched him move, saw the calculated disinterest in his face, and knew that their conversation was effectively over. "Well," he said, adjusting his cuffs as nonchalantly as he could and taking a step back. "Thank you for coming. Let me know if I can be of any further assistance."

The man gave him a sidelong look before turning back toward the window. Jae Shin clenched his jaw and turned on his heel, his stride stiff as he made his way toward the door up to the office.

  
  
The door banged open. Yong Ha turned around, eyebrows up. "You know, I can't help but feel like every time you bang in here like that something bad is about to happen."

"There's some... guy," Yoon Shik said, gesturing over his shoulder. "Out there. Asking for you, I think."

"You think he's asking for me." Yong Ha rolled his eyes and brushed the flour off his hands and onto his apron. "What, is he speaking some foreign language or something?"

Yoon Shik blinked. "How did you know?"

"What?"

"How did you know he was speaking a foreign language?"

Yong Ha froze. His stomach twisted. (He wouldn't have just showed up without emailing first or something, right? He wouldn't. He always hated surprises.) "What language is he speaking?"

"I don't know," Yoon Shik said, grimacing. "I don't really have an ear for that kind of thing. Could be English, or maybe Spanish...?"

"French?" Yong Ha said distantly, staring at the door out to the bakery.

"Maybe?"

Maybe. Maybe he was speaking French. Hands shaking, he reached around behind his back and tugged at his apron strings. God, he was a mess. Flour all over, chocolate on his chef coat, and his glasses - god, his glasses! Fuck. Fuck it. It was what it was.

He tossed his apron onto the butcher block counter and pushed past Yoon Shik. Shoved open the door (the hinges squeaking louder than he remembered) and walked out into the bakery.

The man on the other side of the counter turned around. Yong Ha opened his mouth.

"Jean-Baptiste," he said. "What are you doing here?"

  
  
Jae Shin had forgotten something and come back down the stairs, thick-headed and distracted. It took him a second to figure himself out, and so his hand was on the door knob when he heard Yong Ha's voice say something - something unfamiliar but somehow still familiar - and he stopped. Something wasn't right. (It wasn't right. It wasn't right. It wasn't right.) So he turned around.

He'd never seen Jean-Baptiste. Yong Ha had never shown him a picture or even described him beyond saying he was tall, but the man in front of the display case looked exactly like he'd always figured Jean-Baptiste had to look: tall, long-limbed, light-haired, and really, really fucking French. The look of recognition and shock on Yong Ha's face told him everything else he needed to know.

  
  
"Yong Ha," Jean-Baptiste said, and smiled that wide, bright smile that killed Yong Ha every time. "It's been a while."

Yong Ha practically stumbled out from behind the display case, heart in his throat. "What are you doing here?"

Jean-Baptiste reached out, cupped his hand around the back of Yong Ha's neck. "I missed you," he said. "It's been four years. I had to see you. Isn't that a good enough reason?"

God, god, he'd almost forgotten what his hands felt like. "Yeah," he breathed. He felt drunk, stupid. "It's good enough. I missed you too."

And then Jean-Baptiste leaned his head down, pulled Yong Ha toward him, closed the distance. Kissed him hard, hard enough to (almost) make up for four years of lost time.

There was a part of Yong Ha that really, really wanted to resist; Jean-Baptiste hadn't written him a word in four years and now he just wanted to show up out of nowhere and, and what, lay some kind of claim over him? There was a part of Yong Ha that was angry, that was confused and upset, but mostly he just -

\- Yong Ha groaned into Jean-Baptiste's mouth and fell limp against him.

  
  
The first thought that went through Jae Shin's head was: _Europeans kiss when they greet each other. It was just... something they did. It didn't mean anything, it was just part of 'hello.' Hi there, great to see you again, let's kiss._

The second thought that went through Jae Shin's head was: _I've been in Europe. No one ever kissed me like that in Europe. I didn't see anyone get kissed like that in Europe._

The third thought that went through Jae Shin's head was: _I've never seen anyone being kissed like Yong Ha is being kissed right now._

The fourth thought that went through Jae Shin's head wasn't much of a thought at all. It was just a - just a noise, a hum gradually increasing in volume and intensity until there wasn't any room for any other thoughts in his head at all. The only things he could focus on were the hum and the kiss. The kiss. The kiss?

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!

Every single stupid conversation he'd had with Gu Yong Ha in the last eight months hit him at once, every awkward moment, every time he'd thought Yong Ha had been teasing him or baiting him or taunting him. Every time he'd pulled away from Yong Ha's hand in some stupid attempt at being as outwardly straight as possible. Every time in the last two months that he'd woken up in the middle of the night and hated himself for how comfortable he was. Every time he'd looked at the floor instead of at Yong Ha's face, every time he'd said something, every time he'd said nothing.

And that one time. The one time, four years ago, when he'd fucked everything up and hadn't even had the sense to realize it.

Yoon Shik was at his elbow, eyes wide. "Boss, do you -"

"No," he said, taking a step backward and waving a hand in front of him blindly. He didn't know what the question was going to be but it didn't matter, it didn't matter, right now the answer to every possible question was No. Do you have a minute? No. Do you know what's going on? No. Are you okay?

Jae Shin turned and almost fell through the swinging door, into the kitchen, tumbling past Seon Joon. The fifteen feet from the swinging door to the door out into the alley behind the bakery seemed like it only took two steps and then he was out, he was outside, the cold was stinging against his face and he didn't have his jacket and his wallet was upstairs on his desk and his shirt was too tight and he just, he just wanted to cut himself open and bleed to death on the pavement.

All those emails; he'd pored over them, memorized them, tried to pinpoint the moment where everything had gone wrong and now they were coming back up like some kind of cruel joke. Yong Ha had talked so much about Jean-Baptiste. He'd fallen in love, he'd said. Fallen in love with everything. He'd needed to talk to him - no emails, no phones, face to face. That ugly gray sweater, the people who'd thought his accent was sexy, the way he'd never mentioned a single girlfriend by name even though Jae Shin had always known every single damn thing about anyone Yong Ha had ever spent more than five damn minutes with.

Jae Shin had ruined everything for four goddamn years, every goddamn thing had been his fault. Yong Ha had gone halfway across the world to get away from him and almost died in the process and then when they were finally almost okay, they'd almost been okay again, they were almost okay - when he closed his eyes and tried to breathe the only thing he could see was Yong Ha, Gu Yong Ha, being kissed by Jean-Baptiste motherfucking Evan like they'd done it a hundred times. A thousand times, a million.

Jae Shin dropped to one knee next to the back door of the bakery and threw up everything he'd eaten that day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKAY!!!! I have good news and bad news! The good news is that EVERYTHING IN PART 3 ENDS UP SUPER GREAT. The bad news is that I need to take a very very short posting hiatus to get part 3 ready to start going up. I've been posting roughly once a week, right, and I don't foresee the hiatus going for more than three weeks at most. So you can expect chapter 1 of part 3 to go up on or before (hopefully WAY before) April 11, 2015.
> 
> Don't worry! This is entirely because I have this _thing_ where I feel like I have to complete the rough draft of something before posting it. Part 3 is about... 90% done, I want to say? but I need a bit more time on the last few bits, and then I need to do one broad, sweeping edit before editing individual chapters for posting... anyway, if you really wanted to know details about my ridiculous writing process you'd probably have looked at my stupid tumblr by now. Ahem. Long story short (can I even do that?? jesus criminy, how long is this stupid thing) we'll see each other again very very soon! Also feel free to leave me comments! Or come over to my tumblr! LET ME LOVE YOU! (Unless you hate me after what I did to you in this chapter. Sorry.)


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